Remember to Forget
by The.Teal.Rose
Summary: A summer is shared, love is formed, and a choice is made. Will you remember to forget? "Hermione looked over at his sleeping form...she kissed his forehead and saw a small smile form on his lips before she muttered the word that would change everything."
1. Constellations

**Chapter 1**

Constellations

_July 12__th_

The alarm blared its menacing cry and the digital lights glared about the dark room, revealing the time to be within the five o'clock hour. With a quick jerk of her hand, Hermione granger pressed down the 'off' button and then allowed herself a few more moments within the sweet embrace of her bed.

She closed her eyes and focused on nothing at all. This technique had, upon countless occasions, proved itself to be a very successful way to start the day. Rising, she looked out her window at the still sleeping silhouette of London.

The fog had not yet cleared and only a few souls were out and leisurely walking down the sidewalks. She could barely make out the forms of an elderly couple walking hand-in-hand towards a coffee shop, where they'd undoubtedly read from the newspaper and focus on nothing but the remainder of another uneventful day to be added to the many they had shared.

Hermione smiled to herself as she contemplated the pair before turning and walking into her lavatory. It was the summer following her 6th year with Hogwarts and, as she began to contemplate this fact, she felt familiar memories beginning to surface.

It would be her final year with the great school of magic and, though it should fill her with apprehension, she felt nothing but dread. Before she Ron and Harry had parted ways for the summer, they had discussed the prospect of not returning to school.

They all felt that this was the year in which either Harry or Voldemort would fall, and it was decided that it would definitely be a greater use of their time to search for the remaining horcruxes.

_Ronald _she thought with a sigh as her confused emotions for her friend began to return. She had been the best of friends with him for years but had recently begun to feel something more.

It seemed odd to her; she had never imagined herself with him, or anyone similar to him for that matter. His personality did not fit the type she always envisioned for a lover.

The contemplations of Ron were followed by some other, more melancholy reflections. The death of Dumbledore, Snape's betrayal, and the people she might never see again.

It was only the middle of July and yet she felt the weight of what was to come as strongly as if it were happening the next day. Looking up at her complexion, she saw that there were dark circles under her eyes and a paleness to her overall appearance.

As she began to undress she eyed the uniform hanging on the door. With a sigh she reached for it and began to don the shirt. She had taken on a summer job at one of the nearby restaurants and though it pleased her to be doing something productive with her time, it felt incredibly mediocre compared to the fate of the adjacent world she had come to love.

After slipping on her slacks she once again surveyed herself within the mirror. Her hair had grown long over the past few months and as she began to gather it into a loose bun she made up her mind to have at least a few inches cut before the summer ended.

She applied a very slight bit of mascara, a touch of rouge, and a thin coat of lip gloss before slipping on her apron and shoes. She massaged a layer of her favorite jasmine scented lotion into her arms and hands before turning and grabbing her purse and walking out the room.

As she walked downstairs she saw her mother pouring a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Mum."

Hermione's mother smiled before taking a long slow sip of joe.

"Morning, Mione. Sleep well?"

Hermione nodded, "for the most part. Is Dad already gone?"

"Yes," her mother replied. "He had a few early appointments."

Though her parents enjoyed their professions as dentists, Hermione couldn't even fathom the prospect of working on people's mouths day after day. She was inclined to a more scholarly type of career.

Looking up at the clock she saw that she had only five minutes to spare and so quickly grabbed a thermos and poured herself a cup of coffee. After fixing it the way she liked, Hermione reached for one of her mother's homemade scones and wrapped it in a napkin.

"Bye, Mum. I'll see you later this evening."

Jean Granger turned and waved as her daughter opened the door. "Have a nice day sweetie."

Hermione walked out into the grey morning and breathed in the cool air. She loved the early hours of the day; even in the summer there was still a chill in the air.

The walk wasn't far and she enjoyed the easy exercise. She loved the sound of pavement against her shoes and the slow introduction to a day where she might encounter nothing but stress and anxiety, as seemed to be the norm over the past few weeks.

Sipping her coffee and smiling as she felt its warmth envelop her, Hermione saw the beginnings of dawn creeping into the darkness, chasing away all of night's clever shadows. Sunrise was one of nature's most impressive beauties, in her opinion.

It took only about ten minutes for her to arrive at the café and as soon as she walked in the door and heard the little bell chime, one of the other waitresses greeted her with a bright grin.

"Lovely day today huh, Ermine?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, and its Hermione."

"Oh, right, sorry I'm really bad with names."

Hermione shrugged as she walked into the kitchen, "it's alright."

As soon as she entered the back the smell of pancakes and bacon flooded her senses. It was enough to make her mouth water, and as she scanned the rows of tickets hanging above the station where the cooks were diligently working, she realized that the day was going to be nice and steady.

"Welcome to work," Ted, her manager, greeted as he came from the office.

Theodore Dawkins was a very simple and good-natured sort of man. He treated his employees with respect and genuinely appreciated even the smallest of efforts.

"Good morning, Mr. Dawkins" Hermione replied.

"No, no, it's Ted." He insisted.

"Right," Hermione recalled. She hadn't grown accustomed to calling her superiors by their first names.

After clocking herself in, she grabbed an order sheet and proceeded to her section where she greeted an elderly gentleman.

"Can I start you off with some coffee today, sir?"

The day passed in repetition and Hermione became more and more familiar with the way things worked. After eight hours she felt like doing nothing more than taking a nice hot shower and a two hour nap.

"You did well today," Ted complimented as she was gathering her things. "See you tomorrow?"

Hermione shook her head, "I'm actually off tomorrow, but I'll see you Friday."

Ted smiled, "great. Friday it is."

As she was walking out the door, she heard someone addressing her from behind.

"Hey Hermione!"

Hermione turned and saw that it was the waitress from earlier.

"Yeah?"

The brunette rushed up to her with a grin, "glad I finally got your name right. My name's Sara."

Hermione smiled, "hello, Sara."

Sara took her hand in greeting and giggled, "We should hang out sometime, you seem like a really cool person."

Hermione nodded, "yeah sure, anytime."

"Great," Sara replied, "see you later!"

"Later," Hermione responded with a wave before turning and leaving.

As she walked back she felt the hot sun against her back and greatly missed the morning and it's lovely, pale and solemn characteristics.

She walked past a park where the laughter of children wafted towards her. She chuckled as she saw a mother desperately trying to coax her child off one of the swings.

One of the things she enjoyed most about walks was the interactions she had with other people. She noticed and saw things that would otherwise be missed or taken for granted.

The breeze danced through her hair and against her face, providing momentary relief from the heat. Hermione closed her eyes and a small smile spread its way across her features. She decided that she should just try and enjoy what could possibly be her last summer. The next two months would quite probably hold the last moments of safety and serenity she would feel for a long time.

It was pointless to worry about what loomed ahead, when she should just relax her mind and take advantage of each easy summer day.

As she walked inside she smelled the scent of spice and musk, the perfect mixture of both her mum and dad's fragrances.

Entering her bedroom she placed her purse neatly on her coat rack and then slipped off her apron, hanging it on her bathroom door.

Eying her bed she couldn't decide whether to close her eyes and get some rest or indulge into the new book she had rented from the library.

As she contemplated her options another idea came to her and, deciding against both, she went downstairs brewed herself a cup of tea and then sat at her desk where a quill awaited her.

She dipped the pen into ink and then proceeded to write letters to both Harry and Ron. Harry's was easy; she wrote about her job and about the girl she had met there, explaining that though the Muggle and Wizarding worlds were separate the silliness of other girls prevailed in both.

She also wrote a little about her parents and how worried she was for their safety, as well as notifying Harry of the changes that were beginning to take place for the Muggles. Her letter ended in her wishing him well and in expressing how deeply she missed both he and Ron.

Ron's letter was more difficult, and she realized as she mulled through what to say, that it had never been so hard for her to decide what to put in a letter to him.

After several minutes of wondering where to start she decided just to put off his letter for the time being.

With a sigh Hermione lay gracefully on her bed and then closed her eyes. Her resolve while walking was quickly becoming less potent as her worries began to resurrect.

She had seen signs of the death eater's presence within her own world. The black streaks in the sky, the unexplainable phenomena, and the prime ministers own paranoia concerning his safety. She suspected that they were beginning to infiltrate and instill fear into the hearts of the non-magical community and it sickened her to no end.

There had been recent rumors from the order that Voldemort not only planned to dominate the world of magic but that his eyes had recently turned to the Muggles as well. However, Hermione knew that it would be no small feat, considering how vast her world actually was.

Still, the fear of the possibility plagued her and she knew that it was vital for both worlds that Harry succeed in his quest.

Breathing deeply, Hermione focused instead on something less distressing. If this was truly to be her last days of warmth and tranquility, she needed to make it count. What were some things she had always wanted to do?

Write a book, for one, but with a shake of her head she knew that she would never be able to finish one before term began. She bit her bottom lip and thought back on her days before Hogwarts, and of all the elementary friends she had not seen in ages. She wondered if they all still lived nearby. However, it might disturb some people if she were to go knocking on doors.

With a sigh she racked her brain for something, anything to distract her. Perhaps she should take Sara up on her offer to hang out. Despite her own preference to do something alone, such as reading and drawing, she couldn't deny that interaction with another human being would be the best way to get her mind off the pressing matters at hand.

With a groan she concluded that Sara was the type of person who thrived on activities such as shopping and clubbing. Though Hermione had to admit that a night out wouldn't be all that bad. She had enjoyed herself at the Yule ball, and how different was a club really? She could get dressed up, actually wear some jewelry and spray on some of the perfume her parents had given her last Christmas.

She smiled as she thought of it. Yes, a night in the city would be perfect. She decided to ask Sara about it on Friday.

Looking over at her nightstand she saw a picture of her parents and made up her mind to take them to dinner sometime as well.

'_Dinner and then to one of the local plays, as we used to do.'_

A contented feeling settled within her chest and she closed her eyes focusing on nothing but the black and blank.

She hadn't intended to fall asleep for long, but when she woke she saw that it was already past seven and that it was becoming dark outside. Reaching quickly for her lamp, she flicked it on and then rubbed her eyes.

Downstairs she could hear the voices of her parents and could smell the familiar scent of her mother's stew.

Her stomach grumbling in response, Hermione rose and went down to the kitchen where she saw her dad sipping at some cocoa and her mom humming to herself as she stirred the dinner.

"Have a nice sleep, dear?" Nathaniel Granger smiled up at his daughter, revealing the creases at the corners of his eyes.

There was no smile Hermione loved more than her dads. It was always gentle, wise, and kind.

"Yes, but I only meant to lay down for an hour or so."

He shrugged, "Well, you've been working hard."

Hermione nodded, yet she knew the real reason was all of the mental distress she was instilling upon her body. She always worked hard, she was used to that.

"It smells great, Mum." Hermione complimented.

Jean turned and grinned, "Thank you, I know it's your favorite."

Nathaniel nodded, "Yep, I remember how she used to beg you for it when she was little."

"Dad," Hermione blushed.

He laughed and continued, "You would have nothing else, you would pout and those lips of yours would pucker in complaint!"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, letting her head fall into the palm of her hand.

"See, Jean, she still does it!"

Hermione turned her face away, not allowing her dad the satisfaction of seeing her annoyance.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry sweetie. I'm done."

Hermione smiled then looked into her father's dark eyes, seeing the same gleam that she had inherited.

"I suppose I forgive you."

Jean turned and then proceeded to set the table, her mouth spread into a proud smile, as was always present whenever she was satisfied with the way dinner had turned out.

Several minutes later, Hermione closed her eyes with pleasure as they savory stew hit her taste buds.

"Delicious, Mum."

"Mhm," Nathaniel agreed his mouth full. "It's great."

Hermione suddenly chuckled which was followed by a wide grin. "You reminded me of my friend Ronald just then."

"Oh yeah?"

Hermione nodded, but then her smile began to fade as her thoughts once again turned towards what was awaiting her.

"What's wrong, Pumpkin?"

Hermione looked up at her mom and then just shrugged, "oh nothing. Just miss my friends."

Nathaniel's smile softened into the one Hermione loved and he reached across and placed his hand over his daughters. "I know how important they are to you."

"Aside from you guys they're the most important people in the world to me."

Jean nodded, "yeah, you've been together for years."

"Which says a lot honestly," Nathaniel continued, "trust me when I say that most of the time, when people's interests begin to change, friendships are lost."

"I know," Hermione replied with a sigh.

The next year would demand a lot, she knew, and deep inside she was more than a little concerned about how trying it would be on the friendship she Harry and Ron shared.

From experience she had witnessed how effectively stress, anxiety, and emotional turmoil drove people apart. Not to mention her own conflicting feelings for Ron, which she was certain were best left concealed until after their coming task.

After dinner, Nathaniel helped Jean with the dishes and Hermione wandered outside where she sat on the porch steps. Gazing up at the constellations she smiled at their marvelous expanse in the sky.

Back at Hogwarts one of her favorite places was the astronomy tower and she had spent many nights identifying and familiarizing herself with the history of all the constellations.

However, after Dumbledore's death she couldn't imagine herself returning there. The pain of loss for her beloved headmaster was still too potent.

Focusing on the stars once more, she began to mentally catalog the ones she saw.

'_Ara' _she thought,' _altar to the centaur Chiron.'_

Hermione smiled absently as she thought of the centaurs she had met and, with a sliver of surprise she realized that she would miss even them.

Her eyes continued to scan the sky and they rested on one of the larger groups of stars; Hercules.

She spotted Serpens, the serpent, and Scorpius as well before she recognized the Northern Crown, _Corona Borealis_, Which was one of her favorite constellation legends.

With a sigh Hermione was about to turn her attention away when she discovered _Draco_, the dragon, lying in the sky like a great beast. Being a circumpolar star, it was constant and unchanging; forever guarding what was once believed to be the portal between the mortal and eternal worlds.

Hermione chuckled softly as her thoughts were drawn to the boy who for so many years had antagonized Harry and Ron. It all seemed humorous and petty now, as compared to what they now had to face. Yes, she would even miss that she decided; the childish, immature jests and jeers that had at one time seemed so evil.

"_Oh Lord Draco," _She thought with a shake of her head, _"How will you ever cope without us this year?" _

Hermione laughed as she imagined it and she felt the warmth of her mirth radiate through her. At least something could still amuse her.

"You alright, pumpkin?"

Hermione turned to see her father standing in the doorway.

"Yes," she nodded, "Just stargazing."

He smiled and sat beside her, placing his arm around her shoulders. Hermione closed her eyes and smiled as she leaned against him. No other place felt safer to her then sitting beside her dad. Ever since she was little he was the male figure whom she compared all others to. He was perfect in her eyes. Perhaps that was why she liked Ron, because he made her feel safe…

"You seem to have a lot on your mind, Mione."

Hermione shrugged, "Just going to be a rough year I think."

She began to pick at the denim on her jeans and inhaled sharply, "There's a lot going on over there."

"Hmm, like what?"

Hermione knew that she could never fully explain nor compel herself to worry her parents and so she frantically searched for a half-truth, something that at least actually bothered her but was not life threatening.

"I have begun developing mixed feelings for my friend, Ron."

"You kind of like him, huh? I could tell by the way you said his name earlier at dinner."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and smiled, "by the way I said his name?"

Her father nodded, "you would be surprised how in tuned parents are to their children."

Hermione shook her head, "anyways, yeah, I think I do like him."

"Well then why haven't you told him?"

She sighed, "Because he's my best friend, and I don't want to ruin that." She pondered a moment before continuing, "And also because I can't understand why I like him, he's nothing like anything that usually attracts me."

"Now Hermione," he father chided, "just because he's not intellectually equivalent to you, which I safely assume because no one is, does not mean that he is beneath or undeserving of your affection."

Hermione's mouth dropped, "That is not it, I am not some proud, ego-"

Her father laughed and hugged her, effectively cutting off her statement. "That's not what I am saying dear, you just have particularly high standards."

Hermione bit her bottom lip as she mulled over what he was saying before he took her chin in his hand and stared her in the eyes. "Your mother was _my _best friend."

Hermione blinked and looked away, a frown taking over. "I know."

Her father hugged her once more before rising and turning to go back inside. "Just think about what I said, Pumpkin. Ultimately the choice is yours, but I just don't want to see you throw away what might be a wonderful thing. However, if he doesn't feel right to you, then go with your instincts."

Hermione sighed, "thank you, Dad."

She swept her eyes over the constellations once more before standing and crossing her arms. Thinking over what her father had told her, she realized that perhaps she was being a bit arrogant when it came to Ronald.

Ron was a comfortable, safe haven, in whose arms she would always feel secure. However, the romance aspect, she knew, would suffer a bit. They had known one another too long for there to be much of the mystery aspect, which was always an intriguing part to love. Ronald, she already loved and so there wouldn't be any growing intimacy in that area either.

Fortunately, Hermione knew enough about herself to admit that she wouldn't particularly mind giving up the tenser, more passionate aspect of a relationship. She had always preferred when couples reached the simple, safe, and comfortable stage. It came after the butterflies and jaded opinions of one another. She and Ron had already moved past that as friends. Though, she couldn't deny that sometimes she even experienced the butterflies around him.

'_Oh, I don't know.' _ She thought with a sigh before walking inside and seeing her parents seated comfortably on the sofa.

"Hey, Mione, would you like to join us?" Jean asked scooting to one side, leaving a space for her in the middle.

"I would love to, Mum," Hermione replied smiling at the pair.

As she sat between her parents she smiled in contentment. Her parents had always shared a secure, comfortable relationship, and it seemed to be working perfectly well for them. Perhaps she should give Ron a try.

Then, all at once, she was reminded of the dangers she, Harry and Ron would face, and remembered why she could not tell Ron her feelings, even if she wanted to.

Leaning her head against her dads shoulder, Hermione closed her eyes and almost cried as she thought of how much she would miss he and her mom.

She fell asleep to the buzz of the television and the easy, steady breathing of her father.

It was hours later before she awoke and found that someone had layed her down in her bed, the night light on as she liked and her alarm already set for the following morning.

"I love you mum and Dad," she whispered into the night.

After closing her eyes she spent the ensuing half hour trying to force herself to sleep, however, her efforts proved futile and, after tossing about and trying to find a comfortable position, Hermione reluctantly sat up and reached for her new book on the nightstand.

Reading usually calmed and distracted her brain and so, knowing that it'd be the easy way to induce sleep, Hermione opened the fresh pages and began to run her eyes over the opening paragraph. A yawn formed after only being three pages into it, which was followed by a series of others.

With a sigh, she set the novel down and lay on her pillow once more, the disappointment sinking in. Ginny had suggested the read and Hermione inwardly engraved the memo that it would be the last book she would read on her recommendation. It was poorly written and ill-fantasized. The characters were two dimensional and the fluffiness was over-bearing.

Ginny loved such tales and didn't need a depth to the plot structure to invoke interest. Hermione, however, was different and so she made up her mind to visit the bookstore first thing in the morning.


	2. The Boy with Silver Eyes

**AN: **Happy New Year Everyone! Please R&R!

**Chapter 2 **

The Boy with Silver Eyes

_July 13__th_

'_I'm off today,' _Hermione thought as she woke.

Looking out her window, she saw that the sky was in the beginning stages of dawn. Even when she was off, Hermione still loved to wake before the sun had completely risen. She couldn't bear to miss a single morning.

Since it was a Thursday, Hermione knew her parents had to work and so she was prepared to spend the day alone.

Rising and walking to the lavatory, she undressed and stepped into the shower where she released the stream of warm water. It soothed the tense muscles in her back and she closed her eyes in comfort.

Left to the throes of her thoughts once more, Hermione briefly wondered how many warm showers she would enjoy once she and the boys were out wandering the wilderness. Though she could cast a cleansing spell over herself, she would definitely miss the pleasure of a shower.

After lingering within the water for several minutes, Hermione stepped out and wrapped a towel around her torso. Grabbing another, she began to run it over her hair, absorbing as much excess water as possible.

The condensation had fogged the mirror and so Hermione cleared a spot to make sure she got the part in her hair right.

Not needing to run a brush through her strands, Hermione instead scrunched several sections between her fingers and checked for any tangled spots.

Reaching for her jasmine lotion she distributed it along her legs, arms and neck, while also adding just a bit to her chest.

Satisfied with her early preparations, she changed into a short-sleeved blouse and a pair of thin denim jeans before walking downstairs and stepping out into the new day.

Breathing in the morning air, Hermione began to walk towards her favorite bookstore, which was located a mere three blocks away.

Smiling at passerby's she felt the immediate thrill that always accompanied a trip to any location containing books. No matter how difficult things got or how strongly her troubles plagued her, she could always find an escape within a good novel or work of nonfiction.

Her pace quickened as her determination swept in. She decided that if she could find enough books to last the summer than it would spare the reflections over what was coming.

Desiring a book that could captivate her, Hermione mentally began to file through all the characteristics her books should have. Mystery, intrigue, romance, thrills etc…

'_And originality'_ Hermione added, though she knew this criteria would be the most difficult of all.

Considering how many novels she had already read, it was becoming increasingly difficult to find unique, fictional texts.

"Good morning, Hermione." The shopkeeper greeted as she entered.

"Morning, Sir Elliot." Hermione replied, with a small wave.

He was an elderly gentleman with kind, soulful eyes and a pleasant smile who always insisted that all his regulars address him as 'Sir', so that they could be distinguished from his other guests.

Hermione began to browse the many volumes along the shelves, her excitement growing as her search commenced.

She could remember the title of everything she'd ever read, simply because she always became so enamored within the stories.

She never finished novels like the one she attempted last night, however, because she never read through anything if it started off horribly.

Typically, though, she didn't come across that problem due to the fact that whenever she would go out and hunt for a good book, she would always read the first few pages and get a feel for the quality of the writing.

On average it took her over an hour to decide upon a book, and since she was looking for several, Hermione was fully expecting to spend most of the day within the confines of shelves.

Every summer, Hermione would devote one day to books, and it was something she always looked forward to.

About forty-five minutes into her search, Hermione still couldn't find what she sought, and it was beginning to frustrate her. It seemed that almost everything she picked up didn't provide the necessary 'hook' that was required.

"You know, sometimes you cannot tell the contents of the book simply by reading the first few pages. Some authors like to gradually capture your interest."

Hermione turned to see Sir Elliot standing beside her, his arms comfortably folded behind his back.

"Well, it's difficult when I'm not immediately captured."

Sir Elliot studied her eyes for several moments, and Hermione felt herself squirm within the intensity of his gaze.

"I think I have just the book for you."

She blinked, as he turned and began walking to the back of the store, where he climbed the step ladder and pried a large volume from the top shelf.

Handing it to her he smiled, "just read the first few words."

Hermione turned the book over and saw the title. "Desiree?"

After a nod, Sir Elliot turned to walk back to his desk. "It's the story of Napoleon's first love."

Biting her lip, she opened the novel and inhaled the sweet scent of the aged pages. Smiling in anticipation, Hermione immediately poured herself into its contents and was pleasantly enamored by the excellence of its words.

Twenty minutes later she realized that she had read far more than she'd intended. Elated with the prospect of finding an intriguing story, Hermione closed it and tucked it beneath her arm.

It was a novel of 588 pages and so it guaranteed a lengthy read, which was a rarity considering the speed at which she normally finished a book.

"Well?" Sir Elliot inquired as she made her way up to his desk.

Over all the years in which Hermione had frequented the library, not once had Sir Elliot offered a suggestion. He must have somehow been able to sense her dire need for a distraction.

"What else have you got?" she asked, a bit ashamedly. She, in turn, had never asked for anyone else's literary guidance.

Smiling, the man motioned for her to follow and then proceeded to guide her through the rows of shelves, stopping ever so often to grab a book and hand it to her.

By the end she held six different novels within her arms and, setting them upon a table, she eyed the titles.

"Rooftops of Tehran, the Rossetti Letter," she stopped and looked up at Sir Elliot. "Are these…_all_ romance novels?"

He nodded, "indeed, but all either historical or cultural."

Hermione sighed, "Well I was kind of hoping for a bit of diversity."

Sir Elliot shook his head, "I think that these might be what you need though, and wouldn't you prefer some good stories over diversity?"

Hermione bit her lip before slowly nodding, "Yeah."

"Feel free to continue," Sir Elliot beckoned with a sweep of his hand.

Hermione looked up and smiled, "Thank you."

She turned and continued searching. She still had several hours to kill and so decided to devote at least one more to finding any novels she may have overlooked.

Her hour had come and gone and, after she felt her search was complete, Hermione left the bookstore with ten volumes.

She felt the familiar itch to dive into the stories, her head spinning with excitement, and a wide grin plastered on her face.

Perhaps she could just spend the summer reading, instead of trying to plan for new and outlandish things.

With that thought, however, her pace slowed and her smile faded.

'_No_,' she chastised herself, '_everything changes after this.' _

Releasing a quivering sigh, Hermione glanced down at the bags she held in her hands and felt a heaviness take position inside her.

She needed to make her moments count, and the best way to do that was to spend them with the people she loved, her parents.

However, she knew that she couldn't allow her fears for the Wizarding world ruin her time at home, and so she decided that when she felt herself slipping to their hold, that she would pick up a novel and hide. Only then, though, or when there was absolutely nothing else she could be doing.

"_I love to read though," _she thought, '_and I might not be able to after my adventure starts.'_

Shaking her head she let out an exasperated breath and continued walking. She had no idea what to do.

Upon entering her bedroom, Hermione laid her bags gently on her desk and then decided to try and write a letter to Ron.

She made up her mind to try and keep it simple. With only vague descriptions and without diverging into her concerns over what was happening and what was to come.

It took her over an hour, and many trial versions, to finally produce a note that she felt satisfied with. Sitting back she released a relieved breath and then looked down at the many crumpled balls that were the rough drafts. Shaking her head, Hermione chuckled. Writing had never been so difficult.

Standing, she stretched her arms over her head and then looked up at the clock. It was still only half past four, which left a good hour until her parents would arrive.

Biting her lip, Hermione decided that there really wasn't anything else she could be doing and so, with a wide grin, she fished out _"Desiree"_ and then ventured outside into the backyard, where she sat down against the base of a great willow, the only tree on the property.

For the remaining hour she lost herself within the story of a girl whom she began to strongly admire as the story progressed. She read about how the girl fell in love with the great Napoleon Bonaparte, and about how her love became unrequited.

Pleasantly, Hermione found that her emotions were touched and that a strong bond was beginning to form between the character and she.

Looking up from the pages Hermione breathed out an immense sigh. For a long time, she had read nothing but Wizarding books, and, upon experiencing the history of her world within the novel, she felt an overwhelming sadness at the thought of leaving it behind.

She loved everything about it, the unbiased people, the culture, the technology, the knowledge. It was a world in which people had learned to do everything on their own, without the aid of anything external. They utilized the power of science and created things that Hermione never dreamed was possible.

It had been a long time since Hermione actually stopped to reflect on her own civilization. She had become so enraptured within the magical world that she gradually began to overlook the beauty of her own.

One of the blessings which the Wizarding community held was that it had remained socially unchanged for centuries.

However, upon thinking on it, Hermione decided that because her own world had changed so drastically over the centuries, it allowed for individuals to appreciate their history to a fuller extent.

She felt a stinging damp within her eyes and, shaking her head, Hermione willed them back.

'_Yes_,' she thought. '_I must try and enjoy it as much as possible_.'

At that moment she saw the headlights pulling into the drive and, smiling, she closed the book and dashed inside, where she eagerly awaited her parents.

_July 14__th_

It was Friday and as Hermione walked towards the restaurant, she smiled. Last night, she and her parents had made plans to go out Sunday. They were going to go to her favorite Italian diner and then watch the production downtown of _Beauty and the Beast_.

It had been such a long time since they had actually gone out to do something together, and the excitement was nearly unbearable.

Walking inside, she inhaled the heavy scent of breakfast, and then, seeing Sara, she remembered to ask if they could hang out sometime.

Hermione opened her mouth in greeting but Sara instantly looked up with a wide grin.

"'Morning, Hermione."

"Good morning, Sara."

"I said it right this time?"

Hermione nodded.

"Yay!" Sara squealed, clapping her hands.

Hermione laughed, "I actually came over here to ask if you wanted to go out sometime."

Sara thought about it a moment before nodding enthusiastically, "How about tomorrow night? Me and some girlfriends are going to this techno club thing, and it's always sooo much fun."

Hermione bit her lip before nodding, "Sounds good."

Sara clapped her hands, "This is going to be so great!"

Hermione forced a laugh before walking into the back and clocking in. She hoped it would be a good day for tips because she needed to go and purchase a new outfit for tomorrow night.

A part of her felt nervous at the prospect of going to a club but, she enjoyed dancing and so a bigger part was extremely excited.

She just hoped she wasn't approached by any drunken men hoping for a good time, because lord help her she would jinx the living daylights out of them.

For the most part, boys at Hogwarts were gentlemanly in behavior and, Hermione had nearly overlooked the fact that some of the men in her own world were quite another story.

"Hermione, you have a table!" Sara said from around the corner.

Hermione smiled in thanks and then rushed over to a family of four. The children, twins, a boy and a girl, smiled as they saw her, eager expressions on their faces.

Moments like these were the ones that made her feel like she truly enjoyed her job.

The boy had long blonde hair and striking silver eyes, with dimples at the corners of his grin. He was the first to order and Hermione could tell that he was trying to sound profound in front of her.

His manners were impressive though, more so than the majority of children Hermione encountered.

"You're very pretty," he suddenly remarked, resulting in a laugh from both his parents.

Hermione smiled, "Well aren't you quite the little charmer?"

The boy shrugged, "I suppose. Most of the girls I know are all too silly, but you seem rather intelligent."

"Thank you," Hermione replied.

"You always hate my friends!' his sister suddenly shouted, her cheeks turning red.

The boy shook his head, "No, I just said they're silly."

His sister was about to retort when their parents told them both to be quiet and then turned to apologize to Hermione.

"It's alright," Hermione replied with a wave of her hand, "they're actually far better behaved than most of the children I come across."

As she turned to enter their order, she glanced back at the boy, who was rolling his eyes at his sister, who continued to make ugly faces in his direction.

He reminded her of someone she knew, but she couldn't quite figure out who it was. There weren't a lot of children in her acquaintance.

The family didn't linger, and they were replaced by a pair of newlyweds. Throughout the entire meal they fawned over each other, making Hermione feel slightly uncomfortable whenever she happened to glance their way.

She could never imagine herself acting like that with anyone. Ever. Especially in a public place.

Sara thought they were adorable which inwardly reminded Hermione that she was somewhat set apart from the rest of the female population.

"Another good day, Hermione," Ted encouraged as she was clocking out.

Hermione smiled, "Thanks."

She turned to leave and waved to Sara who enthusiastically returned the gesture.

The two had exchanged phone numbers on their break, and it was decided that after work they would meet up at Sara's house, since that was the place all the other girls were meeting them.

As Hermione walked towards the mall, she kept trying to imagine the night to come. All of the girls, she was certain, would be similar to Sara and she couldn't help but feel slightly anxious at the prospect of feeling left out.

Hermione shook her head, no, she was determined not to let that happen. They would gawk at attractive men and so she would also gawk. They would dance their brains out and so, she would also lose her brains.

Chuckling, she adjusted her handbag and glanced up at the cloudy sky. A storm would probably hit in a few hours, and Hermione definitely didn't feel like walking home in the rain. She had to make this shopping ordeal quick.

"In and out", she told herself, "gotta be in and out."

The wind began to pick up and it tousled her hair in every direction. The air was growing colder as well, and Hermione slipped into the sweater she carried on her arm.

Pulling open the glass doors, she was greeted by the sounds of shoes on marble and people chattering in every direction. The fountain in the square gushed its elegant stream into the wishing basin beneath, and Hermione noted that many couples, especially teenagers, enjoyed sitting on the ledge and throwing pennies into the pool.

"Okay," she breathed, "where to start?"

Her eyes scanned the stores alongside each side of the building and then rested on a rather sophisticated looking place, with very fashionably dressed mannequins along the window.

'_Good place to start at least.' _

In truth, she had no idea what she was looking for and as she walked into the store she gazed around, hoping for inspiration to spark.

"Anything I can help you with?" A greeter inquired.

Hermione shook her head, "no thank you, just looking."

The woman nodded, "very good. Just let me know if you need anything."

Hermione liked the style of the clothes, but, she had to admit they were a tad too classy for where she was going.

With a sigh, she glanced once more at a particularly appealing display before turning and leaving.

She then went into a store designed for a younger generation, in which the clothes definitely looked more promising.

However, they all seemed a bit too revealing for Hermione's comfort and, after searching countless minutes for something, anything, wearable she decided to try somewhere else. As she turned to go, she heard the first rumble of thunder and shook her head in frustration. She had to hurry.

Searching through four more stores and trying on several outfits, Hermione was about to just give up all together when she spotted a department that one of the other Muggle-born witches had gushed over.

Mentally crossing her fingers, she ventured inside and smiled in delight. Yes, it was perfect. The clothes were flashy, elegant, and fun. Her vendetta was filled.

She spent over forty-five minutes trying to decide upon a top. A stone-washed pair of skinny-legged jeans were draped over her arm and some hooped earrings were clasped in her hand.

Biting her lip she surveyed the three shirts in front of her. One was a deep red satin with thin spaghetti straps and rhinestones along the neckline. Hermione loved the color red and found it suited her well. The second was an autumn gold color with some copper shaded lace decorating the top and bottom of the sleeveless top. She loved the color gold as well and liked the way it complimented her eye and hair colors.

The third shirt was a silk halter with an elegant and abstract array of silver, blue and black. It reminded Hermione of Asian art and she found it to be quite pleasing.

All three were different and so it made the decision more difficult. She lingered and debated for several minutes before finally going with the halter. She didn't own anything else like it and so it was the reasonable choice. She had plenty of red and gold in her wardrobe.

The cashier complemented her choice as she was checking out and Hermione smiled in thanks. As much as she hated the shopping process it felt somewhat refreshing to be out doing something that any average girl her age would enjoy.

As Hermione left the store she walked out into the main thro of people and felt herself grin as she mingled among them. It felt safe, and predictable. No illusions, or fear, or magic. Just ordinary people, out enjoying their lives and neither worrying or caring what tomorrow would bring.

Hermione admittedly envied them. It was truly the first time since she had been accepted into Hogwarts that she saw what she was being asked to leave behind, what she had already agreed to sacrifice.

There was magic in her world too. It was of a different kind yes, but still every bit as enchanting. It was in the beauty of simplicity, the brilliance of invention and the wonders of creation and memory.

Humankind had constructed monuments that would put even the highest Wizard to shame. They had accomplished feats that the most powerful Witch would never endeavor. They did it all without the aid of an external force but through unity and skill alone.

This thought brought the realization that she was indeed proud to be among them. Hermione Granger was proud to call herself a Muggle. Where once her bloodline had brought only embarrassment and self-abhorrence, it now soared through her and made her feel a part of something greater.

Thunder cracked and lightening split the sky and, upon seeing that the storm was already well under way, Hermione decided to slip into another shop and purchase an umbrella.

The store smelled of wax and spices, and Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet aroma. She loved the way candles smelled when all mixed and compacted in a small space. Spotting umbrellas at the register she grabbed one and bought it. The clerk commented on how she loved Hermione's hair.

Hermione only smiled in thanks before leaving and then opening the umbrella. She then pushed open the glass doors and stepped out into the raging tempest.

She was surprised by how dark it had gotten in the last few hours. It was even considerably chilly, and the wind bit at her face like a snarling beast.

Pulling her jacket tightly around her torso, she began to calculate how long it would take her to get home.

'_Probably about 15 minutes or so,' _shethought shaking her head.

Her teeth began to chatter and as she walked the sky grew ever darker, the clouds looming menacingly above. She looked down at her watch and bit her lip.

'_So much for hurrying.' _

She had spent over two and a half hours in the mall, and it was already after seven. 

'_Mum and Dad are probably worried,' _she thought in frustration. She hated making them worry.

Her boots sloshed through countless puddles, soaking the front of her jeans and the skin underneath. Hermione typically didn't mind water, but it served nothing but to dampen her mood at present.

As she neared the alleyway, Hermione knew that to cut through would be a faster way home then to go all the way around the next several blocks. It looked very dark though, and it made Hermione nervous as she bit her lip and weighed her options.

Nothing had ever happened to her in all the years she had been walking to and fro, and, in any case, she had a wand. She was by no means defenseless. Having already reached the age of 17, there would be no repercussions were she to use magic outside of school.

Pushing anxiety aside, Hermione inhaled and entered the alley. It was so dark that she could see only through the faint breaks of light emitted through the storm. However, she knew that much worse was awaiting her in the next six months to come and so, it was vital that she not allow fear to hold her.

As soon as that thought escaped her, a shadow moved within her peripheral and Hermione instantly looked to her left as a small gasp was released from her mouth. Heart accelerating, she gazed intently at the area before finally deciding that it was only a mirage.

Walking forward she continued only a few steps before she saw the distinct outline of a person a few feet ahead. Hand tightening on her wand, Hermione swallowed and focused on what spell would be her best defense.

"Who's there?" she whispered.

There was no reply, only the rustling of cloth and then the figure disappeared around the corner.

Hermione could see the shadow on the wall and debated whether to continue or to turn and go the long way back.

'_Oh for Heaven's sake,'_ she chastised her weaker half, '_you're a top of her class Gryffindor!'_

Mind made up, Hermione Granger continued forward and, passing the corner she discovered no one standing there.

Biting her lip she was about to turn and go when she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her.

Eyes widening, Hermione turned to face the stranger in the dark.


	3. The Stranger in the Dark

**A/N:**** Thanks to all who have reviewed so far! Please continue to do so as it provides encouragement and inspiration! Enjoy the next chapter! : )**

**Chapter 3**

The Stranger in the Dark

_July 14__th (continued)_

Her wand illuminating his face, Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion. Of all the people in the world she could have possibly run into, he was the one she least expected to see here, in the streets of Muggle London.

"Draco?"

Draco Malfoy stood before her in all his prestigious glory, hands raised and mouth agape in astonishment.

"Granger," he began after several moments of simply staring, "would you please lower your wand?"

Hermione blinked twice before slowly withdrawing her defense and stowing it in her pocket. Had he been spying on her? Was he working for the dark lord? Were the rumors about Voldemort's interest in the Muggle world finally coming to pass?

"What are you doing here?"She asked.

Draco seemed to contemplate his answer before carefully replying. "I'm just taking a walk."

Hermione nearly laughed at that, and raised a brow.

Draco appeared flustered and Hermione found it strange to see him in such a state. He was drenched completely from head to foot, and his overall demeanor made him appear lost and completely out of his element.

"Out Walking?" She tilted her head to one side, "Why so far from home?"

Draco shook his head, "I don't have to explain myself to you."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Did the dark lord send you here?"

No response came only an annoyed look from Draco, who looked as if he'd rather kill himself than be caught in this situation.

Hermione felt her suspicion steadily rising and the worry that perhaps there was some sinister plot brewing against her world.

"Draco," she said through clenched teeth, her hand tightening on her wand again, "I swear to Merlin if you don't tell me why you're here I'll cast a hex that will have you begging me for your release."

Draco seemed to ponder that for a moment before sighing and lowering his head. Hermione couldn't tell whether he was genuinely looking forlorn or whether he had finally developed some decent acting skills.

"Look Draco, We're not at Hogwarts, you don't have your rank to hide behind. You're on _my _turf, and I am going to get this information out of you one way or another."

"Hey," he replied, "enough with the threats Granger, I'm going to tell you. It's just kind of difficult to discuss, especially with you."

"Why?"

He just glared, before looking behind her and staring at the far wall.

"I don't have all day." She urged.

His glare deepened as he returned his gaze to her, the familiar smug expression taking over. Oh how she hated that expression.

"Let's get out of this rain," he suggested, "then I'll tell you why I'm here."

Hermione thought a moment before slowly nodding. "Lead the way."

Draco rolled his eyes and then walked past her, his steps both brisk and reluctant.

Hermione couldn't help but grin at her unfailing ability to subdue the boy.

He led her out of the alley and back into the street where he stopped a moment to survey his surroundings. Deciding on a destination, Draco maneuvered her through the city as if he had lived here his whole life, which further merited Hermione's suspicions that he had been there awhile.

Entering a small bistro, they sat near the back beside a window overlooking the traffic, and as Draco ordered himself a coffee, Hermione watched as the lights changed from red to green.

"Would you like anything, miss?"

Hermione had momentarily tuned everything out, and, after the waiter had asked her twice, she heard Draco address her.

"Granger," he said, "you want anything?"

Hermione blinked twice before muttering an apology to the server.

"Yes, umm," she bit her lip as she mulled over her choices. "I'll have a chai with extra cream, please."

Nodding, the man turned and left them sitting there, a silence filling the void and awaiting the first to break it.

"So?" she ventured, a brow raised.

Draco swallowed and appeared to be carefully choosing his words.

"First off," he started, "the dark lord _did _send me here, but not for the reasons you may think."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "pray tell."

Draco opened his mouth to speak but stopped and tightened his hands together. Why was it so difficult for him?

Hermione fought back the urge to rush him, and instead sat back and decided to make herself comfortable.

"I didn't know you shopped in stores like that." Draco suddenly stated, looking down at her bag.

Hermione exhaled sharply and then pushed the bag under the table.

"Nice place, what's the occasion?" he continued.

"Never mind that," she said pointing a finger at him, "You are NOT going to try and change the subject."

Draco's smug look returned and Hermione instantly looked away, not wanting to see that look again.

"Okay," he finally conceded. "Here goes."

He deliberated only a moment before continuing. "The dark Lord has-"

He was cut off as the waiter returned with their drinks. Draco smirked at the timing and Hermione lowered her forehead into her palm.

"Lord," she breathed.

"Thank you," Draco smiled at the man before taking a very long and very slow sip of his coffee.

When he had finished he looked up to see Hermione staring daggers at him, which unnerved him slightly considering she had already threatened to hex him.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

Draco nodded, "alright, yes." He breathed in before divulging into the tale.

"Ever since the night the Death eaters entered Hogwarts, the Dark Lord has taken up residence in our manor. He infiltrated the history of our halls with his servants and prisoners and had my father do all of his bidding. My mother and I were not spared his scorn either, and as he sat in our grand dining room, he had us doing the work of slaves."

He paused to take a sip of coffee before continuing.

"However, I suppose that wasn't enough for him. I suppose he just couldn't even stand the sight of us and so, calling my father into our study, he informs him that he is sending us on a mission. He says that we must mingle with the Muggles, watch them, and learn all we can about them."

Hermione sat forward in her seat as he spoke, her heart accelerating in anxiety.

"Well of course this was only an excuse to get rid of us, to send us as far from his side as possible. We are exiles from our own home, to live amongst the most inferior race on this earth. He claims that he has a plan to infiltrate you people, but I sincerely doubt such a plan exists."

He looked up and shrugged, "So here I am, in Muggle London, having to live my life as one of you until the good lord invites us to return. No magic, no title, no pride."

Hermione blinked and then leaned forward quickly, "so, all those rumors about there being a plot against the Muggles they're all…false?"

She held her breath as she awaited his response.

"As far as I know, yes."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. "Thank heavens."

Draco rolled his eyes, "it doesn't disturb you at all that he did this to us?"

"I feel no pity whatsoever."

"You know," he started, "it took a lot for me to tell you that. I feel very embarrassed having to admit that to you."

He shook his head, "I didn't want a soul from Hogwarts to find out, especially Potter and Weasely."

He looked up at her, "you're far from better though, because first chance you get your gonna run and tell them."

Hermione smiled, "it might come up."

"I'll bet you're dying to tell."

Hermione exhaled and rolled her eyes, "You know, it may surprise you to learn that we don't actually talk a whole lot about you in our conversations."

The smug look returned and Hermione looked away.

"So how are you adapting, by the way?" she continued. "How long have you been here? You seem to know your way around pretty well."

"Is this a trick?"

"A trick?"

He nodded, "yeah, something to make fun of me for."

"No," Hermione retorted, "just curious."

He narrowed his eyes before conceding to endeavor the conversation.

"Well, in all honesty, we're actually better off than we were in our manor, as impossible as that is to believe. We've been here for a little over a month, and we're slowly adjusting to the changes. Thank Merlin you Muggles seem to prize gold above every other manner of currency and so we're pretty well off financially. We've attended the highest acclaimed social events and have made some significantly powerful connections already."

Hermione shook her head. How typically Malfoy it was to rise within any environment thrown their way.

"Lord," she muttered as she picked up her beverage and took a pleasant sip.

"What is that?" Draco leaned forward as she set her mug down.

"Chai, it's a spiced tea."

"Hmm," Draco sat back, "smells pretty good."

"Taste's good too."

They just simply stared at one another for a few seconds before Hermione suddenly blinked once, twice, three times.

"What?" he asked in annoyance.

"You have silver eyes, Malfoy."

"Yes, I do. And?"

"Nothing," she replied biting her lip. Draco was who the boy that morning had reminded her of. How odd that she hadn't realized it sooner. Then again, she had never been staring into his eyes before.

She looked up and saw that he was staring at her in confusion.

"What?" she innocently shrugged.

"You know what, Granger."

Hermione shook her head, "it really _was _nothing."

"Hey now," he started, "I told you why I was here so I think it's only fair that you tell me what that was all about."

Hermione crossed her arms, "oh really? What leverage do you have over me, Malfoy? I'm assuming that since you can cast no magic, that you have no wand."

The smug look returned and he glared, "I don't need leverage. You are inferior to me. Tell me right now, Mudblood."

Hermione shook her head, "you really think that's going to work? Really? That's child's play, Malfoy. I think we're both adult enough to skip the name calling."

"You'll always be a Mudblood in my eyes."

Hermione sighed, "Well incidentally I don't care what's in your eyes."

They glared at one another before Hermione looked down at her watch and saw that it was already half past eight. "Drat," she suddenly hissed.

Draco watched as she quickly stood and gathered her bags and the umbrella.

"Tell me." He ordered.

Hermione ignored him and rushed from the bistro, her mind frantic. She had completely lost track of time. Her parents were going to be so worried.

Draco watched her exit and then crossed his arms, the smug look plastered and the glare pronounced. He couldn't believe she hadn't told him, even when he used the word that before had so insulted her.

'_Stupid, Mudblood_.' He thought shaking his head.

Then, looking to her side of the table, he saw that she left her drink and, hastily, he picked it up and quenched his curiosity.

As Hermione lay in bed that night, she thought over the strange interaction she had experienced with Malfoy. It had truly been the first time they had ever had a one-on-one conversation. It had been both amusing and irritating, exactly as she imagined it would be.

A chuckle escaped her mouth as she recalled the frustration he must have felt as she withheld the reason for her sudden comment. How it must have tortured him.

It surprised her how little his name calling effected her. It seemed so miniscule compared with the dangers that would soon be imposed on her life.

With a sudden start she realized that she had left her chai sitting on the table and with a grin she shook her head.

'_I'll bet he tried it. He was so dying to.'_

Oh how she anticipated writing about the strange day to both Harry and Ron.

_July 15__th_

Tonight was the night Hermione Granger would do something she had never done before and she felt as if her anxiety and excitement were going to suffocate her.

"Looking forward to tonight?" Sara asked as Hermione was clocking out.

"Mhm," Hermione replied with a nod. "It'll be fun."

Sara clapped, "Yay! So, we meet at my house at 7."

"Right," Hermione smiled, "see you then."

As she walked outside, she smiled up at the sunshine. At least the weather from the previous day had cleared because she definitely didn't feel like walking around in the rain again.

From the corner of her eye she saw a small kitten digging around in a dumpster and she was reminded of Crookshanks, whom she would have to leave behind.

He had been her pal for over eight years and Hermione knew she would miss him terribly. He never judged or held a grudge against her, but was completely faithful in all ways. She wanted a companion like that; someone who was unconditionally hers, trustworthy and dependable as well.

Snickering, she shook her head. What man could live up to the expectations of a cat?

Again, her mind wandered to the coming evening, which despite her nervousness, was a welcome relief to her anxiety concerning the summer's end.

What would it be like? She loved dancing, and the closest event she could compare it to was the Yule ball, which she'd immensely enjoyed. She would have to write Harry and Ron about the club as well.

Passing the bistro where she had conversed with Draco, Hermione again mused over how strange it was that she had run into him of all people. It was extremely coincidental, and though she desperately wanted to believe his banishment story, she just couldn't extinguish the fear that her people were in danger.

Draco Malfoy had never been a good liar though, as far as she could recall. Then again, she had never really gotten to know him. Perhaps he was.

The wind picked up and whirled its way about her, its cool breath refreshing her skin from the heat. Hermione smiled and closed her eyes, inviting its caress.

How wonderful nature was, it always seemed to balance itself out. It was perfect in design, and majestic in its mysteries.

Looking up to the sky, she bit her lip as she saw the first colors of dusk beginning to bleed through the blue canvas. Though it was every bit as breathtaking as dawn, she did not prefer it.

There was something deep and troubling about sunset. Its properties were solemn and finite, signaling the end of something sweet and glorious.

Dawn, contrarily, represented new beginnings and the prospect for creation and imagination.

Turning, she continued walking and mulling over whatever thoughts dared to enter her head.

Entering her bedroom, she sighed and collapsed onto her bed, letting her bag slip out of her hand and onto the floor.

She was mentally exhausted, to say the least. It was a feeling she was used to as far as studying went, but that required no emotional attachments. All of her latest concerns did, and it was beginning to take its toll over her mind.

Closing her eyes she focused on whatever image chose to materialize itself within her thoughts. A laugh escaped her lips as she thought of the first chess game she'd ever witnessed between Harry and Ron.

How serious they had been about it. That game, at that moment, had been the most important concern in the world to them. How she wished that were still the case, for them all.

The next thought was of the look in Draco's eyes as he'd studied her chai. Shaking her head she laughed at that one as well before her thoughts turned towards the moment she had first seen him.

He had been so small, innocent even, despite his abhorrent behavior. Yes, he had been unbearable ever since his ignorant childhood.

How sad it was that he was also someone who always managed to get under her skin. It was just his overall behavior, which perhaps would never change.

He really did remind her of the child with silver eyes, and that realization alone was enough to make her recognize that Draco Malfoy had perhaps been the most constant person she'd ever known.

He had been exactly the same as he'd always been in school: Pompous, spiteful, and prejudiced.

Hermione chuckled once more before rising and venturing into her closet to admire the outfit she would don for her night out.

How exciting it would be to really dress herself up. It had been years since she'd last done so.

Her mind turned to Victor Krum, whom she'd not thought of since 5th year. He had pretty much been her only relationship during her entire life at Hogwarts.

To this day she still had no idea why she'd been so fond of him. He was older, so his maturity level was close to hers, but he had also been rather clueless when it came to simple matters, and his depth of personality was entirely nonexistent.

She had been young at the time however, and that was the most reprieving factor of the entire ordeal.

It had broken her heart when she got the letter that ended their 4 month relationship. It had been a blow to her feeling of self- worth, which made that year one of her most difficult.

She needed a man who would be stable, intelligent, and understanding. Was Ron very understanding and rational?

'_No_', she thought with a grin, '_he was always the complete opposite of that_.'

However, the way she always understood love to work, was that it was not for either party to decide the personality or circumstances of the other individual.

Love was an entirely independent concept that worked its way into the heart and held its ground until the mind either eventually conceded or refused and rebelled until that love diminished.

She'd never been in love; the closest she'd ever come was the way she felt about Ronald. It was different though, she knew, then the way most people felt as they fell in love. She had loved her friend for years and all his faults were already acknowledged and accepted, making it impossible for the mystery aspect to remain present.

There was a small bit of infatuation and the occasional butterflies, but nothing groundbreaking or epic. It was a comfortable state that most couples did not reach until after the year mark.

A part of Hermione was content with that concept, which was her more rational half. However, there was another part, deeply buried beneath the former, which thirsted and longed for a more fulfilling experience with love.

That part wanted the type of love depicted in all the worlds' greatest romance novels. She wanted to be swept off her feet and taken on a marvelous adventure into the unknown and surreal.

However, Hermione knew that novels were not true to life, and that such a daydream was ridiculous when logically pondered.

Glancing at the outfit once more, Hermione reveled in all the unknown factors the night seemed to promise.

It was going to be so exciting.

Biting her lip, she ran downstairs as he parents came home. She ate dinner with them and informed them of where she was going before running back upstairs to ready herself.

Eagerly slipping on the various pieces of clothing, Hermione smiled at her appearance in the mirror. It was entirely pleasantly suited to her figure, fitting in all the places it should.

'_Now for the hair'_, she thought with a slight feeling of weariness.

It was always such a chore to deal with, being as it was so long and thick.

Deciding she would rather wear it down, Hermione brought out her straightening rod and curling iron.

It took well over twenty minutes to manipulate her strands to their various positions, but when she had finished, Hermione mentally patted herself on the back. The result had been terrific.

As for makeup, Hermione decided on a subtler look; playing up the eyes, while only applying a light, nude colored lip stain and gloss to her mouth.

Observing her final appearance for several moments, Hermione bit her lip. It had been forever since she'd played up her image, and though she felt slightly materialistic, a side-effect of striving to be as different as possible from all the silly girls she'd known, the feeling of looking beautiful did a world of good for her self-esteem.

Smiling, she felt as if she could do anything.

Pursing her lips, Hermione briefly wondered how she might appear to the opposite sex on a day to day basis. Was she at all attractive to them? There were no abnormalities about her features, they were all pretty much aligned and even. Her mouth was full, and her eyes wide and bright.

'_Oh, I don't care,'_ she thought shaking her head.

Tearing her eyes away from the mirror she pushed her vanities from her mind and instead focused on putting on her shoes.

Glancing to her night table, she spied the novel she was reading, and a brief, almost instant temptation to just stay home and read crept its way into her chest.

'_No_,' she told herself, '_I need to do something different_.'

Upon this thought, she grabbed her purse, sprayed on a bit of fragrance, then turned out her light and descended the stairs.

She walked out into the night and then took her first step towards an evening she would always remember.

Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, Hermione readied herself.

'_I can do this.' _


	4. A Tap on Her Shoulder

**Chapter 4**

A Tap on Her Shoulder

_July 15__th (continued)_

"You look great!" Sara squealed as Hermione walked inside.

She firmly embraced the Gryffindor and Hermione returned the gesture somewhat uncomfortably.

"I might just have to steal that shirt from you, girl!" Sara continued wearing the biggest smile Hermione had ever seen.

"Oh, well then I'd best keep it on," Hermione replied, lamely executing a joke.

Sara laughed regardless, took Hermione's hand and led her to the living room.

"We just gotta wait for the others to arrive."

Hermione nodded and sat down on the sofa. "Nice apartment, by the way."

"Oh thanks," Sara replied, her smile growing impossibly wider.

The pair sat in an awkward silence for several minutes, Sara drumming her fingers on her knee and Hermione biting her lip and looking out the window.

The doorbell rang suddenly and Sara jumped up from the couch, as Hermione watched her exchange pleasantries with the three girls standing outside.

She listened as they chatted incessantly about all the latest gossip, before her attention began to wander and she turned her eyes to the mantel, where there were pictures of Sara and countless shots of friends at parties and get-togethers.

Hermione supposed the girl was already living on her own and briefly wondered why that was the case.

"Hermione!"

She quickly looked towards the door to see Sara and three other scantily clad women awaiting her with bright faces.

"Are you ready for a good time or what?"

"Oh yeah," Hermione replied, rising from the couch and forcing a smile. "I'm so ready."

As she followed the others into the night she couldn't suppress the feeling that maybe she was making a mistake.

About twenty-five minutes later, Hermione found herself standing in a dimly lit building full of people, with music playing loud and lights spinning in every direction.

Glancing at the bar she spotted several young guys hanging around another group of six or so girls, all itching for a look of approval or a gesture of attraction.

Turning her gaze to the dance floor, Hermione swallowed uncomfortably as she saw the way people were dancing with one another.

'_A definite mistake,' _she thought dejectedly. She would be caught dead if she were to dance in such a way.

Sara and the others, however, seemed to feel completely at home as they made their way to a lounge area and slumped onto the leather cushions. Hermione followed and sat at the far end next to a petite, Eurasian-looking girl, who was already beginning to flirt with her eyes at a young gent in the corner.

"Having fun yet?" Sara yelled over the music.

Hermione just nodded wordlessly.

Sara laughed, "Hasn't even started yet, girl!"

"Great!" Hermione shouted, conjuring a laugh.

"Oh, I'm Natalie by the way," the Eurasian introduced herself.

Hermione smiled, "Hermione."

Natalie laughed, "I'll have to practice that one."

The music suddenly changed to a more upbeat, techno style, which provoked a squeal of delight from all the other girls Hermione was sitting with.

"I love this song!" Sara yelled as loud as she could.

They began to move their hands in rhythm to the beat and Hermione looked away only to see a couple in the corner who were "dancing" in the most risqué fashion she'd ever seen.

'_Oh Lord.'_

Allowing her forehead to rest in her palm, she closed her eyes and focused on the music alone which, she had to admit, was actually rather enjoyable.

As the song changed she saw Natalie stand before the others followed her example.

"Let's do some dancing, Hermione," Sara urged, grabbing her arm.

Hermione just smiled and followed her group onto the floor.

Dancing was fun, perhaps if she just did that all night, and no drunken men approached her, she would have a good time.

Closing her eyes, she began to sway to the music, allowing her body to follow the beat and hoping she wouldn't look like too much of a fool.

Smiling, she felt herself becoming more comfortable and, opening her eyes she spotted Natalie and Sara applauding her.

Thrusting her arms forehead, she moved her hips in sync and nodded her head in rhythm.

Her grin grew ever wider as she lost herself to the many harmonies vibrating throughout the room, electricity running through her veins, and her heart as light as if she were soaring through the air.

Then, it happened, the first guy to dare venture towards her. He walked unsteadily and his breath smelled of liquor. Hermione simply glared into his eyes, causing him to falter in his steps before slowly turning and walking away.

Sara watched the exchange before high-fiving Hermione. "Wow that was brilliant, way to ward him off girl!"

Hermione shrugged, "They just gotta know you're not one for messing around."

"You're fearless," Natalie remarked, "backing down is _not _in your vocabulary."

Truth be told, Hermione had no idea how she was going to handle her first encounter with an intoxicated guy but, upon being confronted, the reaction had just come naturally.

The night commenced and for the next couple hours, Hermione was not interrupted again. She had actually gotten to the point where she was enjoying herself and felt happy she'd decided to come.

The music was all terrific and the lights were mesmerizing. She had even gone over to the bar and ordered herself a cocktail which tasted divine.

Sharing the sofa with the other girls, she laughed and conversed with them, feeling her worries slip away and the overall edge to her emotions dissipate.

Then, as she had just gotten up to dance to a particularly inviting tune, leaving the others sitting in the lounge, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Whirling around, Hermione looked up into a pair of silver eyes, gleaming within the glow of the iridescence.

Draco Malfoy tilted his head and smirked, "Well I have to admit, this is not a place I expected to find you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and felt the first damper upon her evening. "No, nor I you."

"Well," Draco motioned over to the opposite corner of the room, towards the section for executive seating, "my father's here with some of his acquaintances, discussing private matters."

"I'm sure he is," Hermione replied flatly.

"And you," Draco continued crossing his arms, "Why are you here?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "not that it's any of your business but I'm actually here with friends."

"Mhm," Draco scanned his eyes about the room, "and where are they exactly?"

"In the lounge, sitting on one of the sofas."

At his wide smirk she rolled her eyes again, "What? You don't believe me?"

"I didn't say that," he shook his head.

People danced all around them, occasionally brushing against Hermione's forearm in the compact space. Smoke filled the air and the lights continued their electric dance to the heavy techno.

"So are you going to leave me alone anytime soon, Draco?"

Draco stepped forward, "would you like me to leave you alone?"

"Yep," Hermione nodded.

"Then no," he replied, smirking again.

Oh how she hated that smirk.

"Why not?"

"Because, _we _have a conversation to finish."

"Oh Lord," she rolled her eyes, "seriously, you're really still on about that?"

"Well, yeah," he replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Hermione laughed half-heartedly. "You know what, because you want to know so badly, my resolve to not tell you has strengthened."

"Now you're just being mean."

Hermione shrugged, "hey, I guess I'm just a mean person."

Draco glared, "Mudblood."

"Get out of my face."

At that a particularly wasted couple bumped into them, nearly knocking Hermione to the floor. Draco caught her on his arm and steadied her before turning and shoving the guy away.

"Watch yourself."

The guy's face turned crimson and he pointed a wavering finger in Draco's face. "You nee-oo ge-ow of vu way!" he spat.

Draco merely gave him an incredulous look.

The man wiped his mouth and continued pointing at Draco as he stumbled off, leaving the intoxicated girl he was with on her own.

Hermione couldn't help the laugh building up within her and as she released it she felt all of her previous annoyance begin to fade.

Draco turned to look at her and grinned before a chuckle escaped him as well.

"That guy really thought he had the upper hand on you," she stated between peals of laughter.

Draco shook his head, "Oh I know," he conceded, grin still in place, "People astound me."

Hermione continued laughing for several moments before she finally felt it die away, leaving her sides aching.

"You alright?" Draco asked, only mildly concerned.

Hermione nodded, "yeah, it really wasn't overly hilarious but I just couldn't stop laughing for some reason."

"Ah," Draco replied, "I wondered. I've never known you to find such things so amusing."

"The look on his face though," she continued, chuckling slightly, "was completely priceless."

Draco shook his head, "oh my God, you're starting all over again."

"No I'm not," she countered, catching her breath, "I'm done."

Draco raised his brows, and she smiled before chuckling softly despite herself.

"Uhuh," he stated crossing his arms.

Hermione closed her eyes and focused on the nightmare of failing an exam, something the complete opposite of funny in order to erase the image of the intoxicated man from her mind.

Opening them again, she found that it had worked like a charm and she smiled at her clever pun.

"You smile a lot," Draco observed suddenly.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but couldn't quite think of a response for that. It had caught her off guard.

"Uhm," she bit her lip, "yeah, I guess so."

A silence ensued during which another beat began that appealed to Hermione's musical taste; she tilted her to one side as she listened to it.

She began to realize how awkward it was to be standing with Draco in the middle of a dance floor full of people "getting it on" and what not.

Draco seemed to acquire the same realization as he shifted uncomfortably.

Hermione looked away and towards the DJ on stage. She watched as he bobbed in perfect rhythm and nimbly spun his discs. She smiled as she thought of how fun a job like his could be.

Turning back to Draco, she appraised him curiously. He seemed extremely out of place in her world, and she wondered if the reason he approached her was because he needed the connection to something he understood.

"Thank you for not letting me fall to the floor earlier." She suddenly said.

Draco nodded as he saw the sincerity in her eyes. "I wouldn't let that happen to anybody. Not even you."

He seemed to think about what he'd just said for a moment before he shook his head, "actually, I would probably let it happen to your two idiot friends."

Hermione glared, "don't go on talking about idiot friends, Draco when you _know_ that your two buddies far exceed mine on the moronic level."

Draco shrugged, "eh. Whatever."

At that moment, Hermione's group made their way over and eyed the pair inquisitively.

"Who's this?" asked Sara curiously.

"Allow me to introduce, Draco Malfoy, an acquaintance from school." Hermione proclaimed.

Draco smiled and nodded at them before turning to Hermione. "I guess I'll get back to my father."

Hermione smiled in return, "You go right ahead."

Draco turned to leave before Hermione suddenly called out to him.

"Hmm?" he replied.

"Goodbye, Draco."

There was an edge to her voice that seemed to slightly confuse him before he gathered his wits and nodded, "yeah, see ya around, Granger."

Hermione shook her head as she saw him walk away. It truly might have been the very last encounter she would have with the Malfoy boy and she didn't know whether to feel a measure of sadness or exuberant relief. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.

In any case, she hoped he would have a good life.

"Well that guy was…interesting." Sara announced.

Hermione nodded, "oh yeah, he's a real piece of work."

The rest of the evening passed without any more interruptions and Hermione eventually felt herself slip back into a sense of ease and comfort. The other girls were not as bad as she had initially presumed, especially Natalie, who actually seemed like a very intriguing person.

They talked and giggled, and occasionally got up and danced to another song or two. Hermione was beginning to see what she had always missed out on at Hogwarts by being reserved and isolating herself from the other girls' company.

It felt…safe to just be hanging out with a bunch of girlfriends and Hermione found that she immensely enjoyed chatting with them.

A yawn escaped Sara, which was followed by several more as the room gradually began to empty of its occupants. Natalie began to notice and as she turned to face the group she let out a long sigh.

"Well, you girls ready to go?"

Hermione nodded slowly, "yeah, I suppose."

They all rose and stretched before gathering their various belongings and stepping out into the chilled night air.

"What time is it?" Sara asked midst a yawn.

"2:37" Hermione replied shaking her head. "I had no idea it had gotten so late."

Natalie shrugged, "eh, it's summer, who cares?"

Sara giggled before a sudden thought entered her head. "Hermione, I don't think I ever asked you, what school do you go to?"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but faltered for an instant. "Uhm, well, it's a…" she looked up to the starry sky as she racked her brain for a fool-proof answer. "It's a boarding school, farther up north."

"A boarding school? Really?" Natalie inquired, eyes wide. "That's so cool. You must have wealthy parents. Mine were never able to afford it."

Hermione blushed but said nothing.

"What do your parents do anyway?"

"They're both dentists, actually." Hermione replied proudly.

Natalie smiled, "that's awesome, maybe I should start going to them."

They continued down the solitary street, the bustle of the day completely absent, leaving only figments and traces of its presence.

Hermione heard nothing but the occasional dog barking and the sound of her boots and her friends' heels clacking against the cobblestone.

Sticking her hands in the pockets of her jacket, she looked up to the sky and at the stars embedded there. They were so marvelously beautiful, glistening and beckoning to her heart.

She thought over her night and of the exhilaration dancing had made her feel. It felt as if she had released an internal, gnawing frustration and the results had been most liberating.

Upon reaching Sara's apartment they all exchanged goodbyes.

"It was nice meeting you, Hermione." Natalie stated as she gave her a tender hug.

Hermione smiled, "you too, I hope we get to hang out again sometime soon."

Then Natalie and the two she had arrived with, walked off in the opposite direction before Sara turned to Hermione and grinned.

"So did you have a good time?"

Hermione nodded, "I did, thank you for inviting me."

Sara shrugged, "anytime girl." Then she waved and walked inside, "see you at work Monday."

Hermione nodded and returned the wave before taking a sharp inhale of breath and looking down the dark abandoned street.

'_Drat,_' she thought, '_didn't take into account I'd be walking home alone.'_

Biting her lip she fingered the phone in her pocket before deciding against calling her parents. It would be extremely inconsiderate of her to wake them at this hour.

Looking back at Sara's door she thought about asking the girl if she could stay the night, but the thought of possibly intruding when it wasn't offered felt completely rude.

Hermione's brow creased as she weighed her options. She suddenly wished she hadn't dressed herself up so much. It made her more vulnerable and attractive to potential dangers.

For an instant she thought she might have left her wand at home and mentally kicked herself before she was reminded that she had slipped it into her boot.

The thought comforted her and as she took the first step in the direction of her house, she felt utterly exposed and bare before the darkness and whatever presence might be lurking within it.

'_Stupid girl_,' she chided herself, '_you're supposed to think these things through_.'

It were times such as these in which she most yearned for Ron and Harry. They were her protectors in all things, though she usually gave off the vibe that she didn't need any help from anyone, inside she always reveled in the comfort and security they offered.

She was just as skilled as any man and entirely as able to defend herself, but the mere and core fact that she was a _woman _created the potential for her to be exposed to certain things that men had no need to fear.

She let out a soft gasp as she heard a noise to her left, but with relief she saw it was only a cat, possibly the same one she had seen earlier.

As she continued walking she wondered how she always managed to end up in situations like this. Was she just _that_ prone to danger?

Her nerves were on edge and her mind was reeling with ridiculous illusions. She closed her eyes and fought to control herself.

'_Calm down,'_ she told herself, _'you're alright. Everything's fine.'_

She felt so alone and vulnerable and the feeling only surmounted as she came around the corner to where several bars were located. She spotted many other individuals making their way home on unsteady feet. Loud, drunken voices wafted towards her and she shrank back behind a building in dread.

Alone in the streets on a Saturday night was not the wisest place to be, left to the mercy of brains lost to intoxication.

Hermione steadied her breathing before peering around the corner to see that the group was now walking in the opposite direction. Eying the back door of the bar she hoped with all heart that more would not come stumbling out within the next ten minutes.

Swallowing, she readied herself, prepared to run if she needed to.

Suddenly a figure leapt out from the adjacent wall and landed beside her.

Hermione instantly whirled around, her hand flying to her pounding chest and her mouth releasing a soft scream.

"Do you always go walking around by yourself in the middle of the night?" he laughed pleasantly.

"Draco! God," She replied removing her hand and trying to catch her breath. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry," he held up his hands defensively. "I couldn't resist. The opportunity was just too perfect."

Hermione glared before stumbling against the wall behind her; her knees were so weak from the shock it took her a minute to steady herself.

She brought her hand to heart again and willed it's pounding to slow.

"You're pretty scared out here, huh?" he asked stepping towards her.

Hermione didn't answer just closed her eyes and willed away the sharp words that threatened to surface.

"Draco please don't ever do that to me again." She looked up at him with narrowed eyes, "that was horrible of you."

He swallowed, "I was only trying to have some fun."

"Well then we must differ greatly in our opinions of fun."

He nodded, "well, that's always been the case. You all thought it was bloody hilarious when mad-eye turned me into a ferret and bounced me up and down in front of the entire class."

Hermione's jaw dropped, "No," she retorted, "I didn't think that was funny at all, I told Harry off when he mentioned it. I actually felt sorry for you."

Draco's eyes widened," What? Really? Why?"

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know, maybe it was because you looked so much cuter as a ferret." She smiled mockingly.

Draco rolled his eyes before turning and gazing down the street, "You ready?"

Hermione stared at him in confusion, "what?"

Draco looked back at her, "are you ready to go home?"

Hermione hesitated before slowly moving away from the wall and walking ahead of him.

"You're going to walk me home?" she muttered, perplexed.

Draco shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged, "I really don't hate you enough to want to imagine you being assaulted by some drunk."

Hermione stared at him with doubt in her eyes, wondering if there could possibly be some hidden motive behind his civility.

As they strolled past the bar she saw another group of men stumble out and she swallowed nervously as they eyed her and grinned. However, as they saw Draco their interest instantly faded and they staggered on into the night.

Hermione looked over at Draco who was just staring straight ahead, his mouth set in a half-smile. He seemed entirely at ease and his face was bright and untroubled.

She wondered if perhaps he finally felt a sense of safety within the Muggle world; Away from Voldemort, from Hogwarts, and from the impending prospect of war.

Despite his words on how shameful it was to have been sent to such an "inferior" place, she imagined that he was actually quite content. She knew he had not wanted to become a death eater, as was proven by his failure to kill Dumbledore.

She had no idea what type of threats were imposed on him or what horrors he had seen whilst under the same roof as the Dark Lord.

"You're staring, Granger."

Hermione immediately averted her gaze and shook her head, "nope."

Draco shrugged, "deny it if you must."

Hermione rolled her eyes before deciding to change the subject, "so what are you doing out here anyway?"

Draco shrugged again, "I was just..you know, rummaging through trash, chasing some mice, licking my fur, stuff like that."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "So you're a cat huh?"

"That's right," he replied with a nod.

"Lord, nevermind," Hermione said shaking her head.

They continued on in silence for several minutes before Draco looked up at the sky and Hermione saw his eyes widen.

"Look!" he shouted excitedly pointing a finger towards a red orb of light, "Look at that light! I wonder what it could be? Perhaps it's a bit of magic, visible from the Wizarding World!"

Hermione furrowed her brows as she looked at a moving, blinking, red light. "Uhm, no. That would be an airplane, Draco."

"Ah," he replied, "what's that?"

Hermione thought for a moment, "It's a Muggle transportation vehicle. Consider it like our way of apparating."

"Huh," was all he said as they continued walking.

Hermione swallowed suddenly and looked at him confused, "why exactly are you being so civil towards me?"

Draco shrugged and kicked at a pebble on the ground, "just nice to see a familiar face is all."

Hermione bit her lip as she contemplated that. She supposed it could be quite possible that he felt somewhat out of place within a world he'd always scoffed at, yet didn't understand. Being that she was his first contact with the world he grew up in, she found that she understood exactly what he meant.

"Also," he continued, "you're actually a notch above the rest of the company we keep nowadays. I mean, at least you're actually a witch."

"Ah," Hermione replied with a slight smirk, thinking that this explanation seemed far more fitting to the boy she thought she knew, "so I'm just another connection of yours, huh?"

"You could put it that way I guess," he replied.

Hermione shook her head, "wow."

They walked on and as the wind began to pick up, Hermione shivered and wrapped her coat tighter around her torso.

"You're not cold?" Hermione asked looking over and seeing that he wore no jacket.

He shook his head, "no, this feels good."

Hermione shrugged and, as silence descended between them, found her mind slipping to the hold of her thoughts once more. She hated to admit to herself that she was thankful for Draco's presence. It had terrified her to walk home on her own, and the way the guys at the bar had stared at her, she shuddered to think what might have happened had Draco not been beside her.

As they arrived at her doorstep, Hermione desperately tried to say the words she had been thinking, but found it terribly difficult, considering who she was indebted to.

"Uhm," she struggled as she forced the words out of her mouth, "th-thank...you, Draco."

He looked uncomfortable and she started to regret having said it before he slowly nodded and replied with the tiniest of smiles, "sure thing, Granger."

The look on his face was almost humorous as he shifted his eyes back and forth and drove his hands deeper into his pockets.

"Has nobody ever thanked you for anything before?" she couldn't help but ask.

He hesitated before opening his mouth and stumbling over his own words, "well, uhm…well, no."

Hermione shook her head, "hmm, well that's too bad."

He cleared his throat and nodded but didn't say anything else.

Hermione sighed and then waved, "well goodnight."

"Oh, one thing," he suddenly said, halting her, "do you think you can tell me what that remark in the bistro was about now?"

Hermione's jaw dropped and she shook her head in disbelief. "Oh. My. God, Draco." She said grinning incredulously, "will you please just let that go? I am not gonna tell you."

Draco couldn't help but smirk at the familiarity of provoking her, the night had yielded one too many awkward situations.

He watched as she spun around, shaking her head yet smiling widely, and slammed the door.

"Goodnight, Granger!" she heard him holler, before listening to him walk away.

"Unbelievable," she muttered rolling her eyes. So perhaps there had been a hidden motive. Curiosity was obviously a major trait in Draco she had never picked up on. However, now that she knew this fact, she couldn't help but find it amusing how badly it was killing him to find out the secret behind her remark.

As she walked into her bedroom and changed into her pajamas, she continued to think over the entire evening, replaying it over and over within her mind. It had been such a strange experience, especially with Draco there. She had enjoyed herself, despite him, and decided she would try and go out with Sara and Natalie one more time before the summer ended.

As she lay in bed, breathing softly and reveling in the comfort of her mattress and the pillow beneath her head she truly felt, for the first time since the prospect of leaving Hogwarts had entered her mind, content.

She felt a sudden pressure against her back and, turning over she found that Crookshanks had curled up beside her.

Heart softening, she reached over to pet his ginger fur, "I'm really gonna miss you buddy."

He simply purred gently, and she felt another wave of sadness engulf her heart, reminding her again of all the things she was going to have to leave behind.

Her eyes slowly drifted closed, and she fell asleep thinking over all the memories of her childhood and listening to the steady hum of the purring cat beside her.


	5. Take Your Prince

**Chapter 5**

Take Your Prince

_July 16__th_

As Hermione sat with her parents at a small table in the corner of the Italian diner_, Piccolo Diavolo_, she looked about the room and felt the sentimental flow of memories which were triggered by the room's familiarity.

Hermione suddenly realized that she had not been to the restaurant since she first got her acceptance letter to Hogwarts, which instilled a slight feeling of guilt. How had she let the Wizarding World take so much precedence over the world she had grown up in?

She recalled that she would always order the _Spaghetti Carbonara (_a delightful concoction of pan fried bacon, eggs, parmesan, and cream) and so, when the waiter arrived, she promptly gave him her order.

"How have you been doing, pumpkin?" her father asked after their server walked away, "you've been really quiet all evening."

Hermione looked up at him, and then tried to act nonchalant. "Oh I'm fine. Just tired is all."

Nathaniel raised a brow at his daughter, "I know something is bothering you."

Hermione let her eyes fall to her hands, which were tightly folded in front of her.

Jean eyed her daughter with worry, and gently placed a hand atop hers.

"You know you can talk to us about anything, right?"

Hermione swallowed and avoided her mother's eyes, '_except for the fact that I may never see you again after the summer's over.' _She thought bitterly.

What if the death eater's came after her parents for information? What could she do? She would be in an entirely different world, miles away from them.

What if they were in danger of being killed?

Hermione's mind raced as she speculated the various scenarios. She needed a plan, a plan to get them far way until after the Voldemort dilemma.

"Pumpkin?" her father asked, watching her face change from sadness to horror.

Hermione met the eyes of her parents and forced a smile onto her face, "I was just thinking about how much I am going to miss you guys. I hate being away from you."

They both smiled, "We are going to miss you too. Every time you leave it feels as if a part of us has left with you."

Hermione bit her lip and nodded, "I know. I feel the exact same way."

Silence followed and several minutes passed in which they all just sat and gazed about the restaurant.

"Is that all that's bothering you?" Nathanial pressed.

Hermione wished he wouldn't pressure her for an answer, though she understood that he was merely concerned for her well-being. Why shouldn't he be?

"Well," she began with a sigh, "this year is going to be difficult. I am going to have to decide what to do with my future and all that."

They both listened intently as she continued.

"Also," she sighed, "I feel as if I've been overlooking how important my home is to me, the place I grew up in, the world I was born into."

There, that had been at the forefront of her mind all evening.

Her father put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "You shouldn't let that bother you, Mione."

Jean nodded, "It isn't a crime to love both places, dear."

Hermione sighed and shook her head, "I feel like I'm betraying my identity, you guys, my memories, everything."

"You're not," her father declared firmly. "You will always carry your past in your heart, as well as your identity. However, you cannot look back, you must move forward and develop new connections."

Hermione eyed him sadly. She needed to protect both he and her mother, at all costs. She didn't know what she would do if they were ever harmed or endangered. It would be all her fault if anything ever _did_ happen to them, her responsibility.

"More than anything, I just really want to enjoy this evening with you guys." Hermione stated with a smile.

They returned her smile warmly and nodded, "yes, so would we."

The waiter walked up with their food just then and, as he set Hermione's plate in front of her, he caught her eye and smirked softly.

Hermione blinked as he straightened and walked away, looking back at her twice as he did so.

Her mouth parted and, looking to her dad she saw that he had not missed the exchange.

"Why little, Mione, that young man was completely taken with you."

Hermione blushed furiously and pretended not to have noticed, "oh yeah? That's strange."

As she dug her fork into her pasta she shook the image of the waiter from her mind and instead focused on the savory entrée she was about to enjoy. As it greeted her mouth she closed her eyes and felt the reminiscence of simpler times accompany the delectable taste.

"How is it?" Jean asked, always curious when it came to cuisine.

Hermione grinned, "amazing, exactly the way I remember it."

Her father cleared his throat and then recalled the exchange from a moment ago, "so, while on the subject of men, how is it going with that Ron fellow? Have you written him since our last conversation?"

"Oh yes," Jean interjected, "your father told me there was boy you were interested in."

Hermione sighed, "no, I have not written him yet. It's difficult for me to figure out what to say to him."

Her parents smiled knowingly and she saw her father squeeze Jean's hand.

"We remember those days all too well," Nathaniel laughed.

Hermione swallowed and took another bite of pasta.

"So are you going to tell him how you feel?" her mother pressed.

Hermione shook her head, "When the time is right."

Nathaniel eyed her intently, "don't spend too much time waiting dear, or he might slip away."

Hermione couldn't suppress the sadness that engulfed her heart at that prospect. She nodded in response to his warning and smiled sadly before sighing and setting her fork down on her plate.

As her parents averted their gaze to one another, Hermione looked up and saw that their server was talking to one of the other waiter's across the room. She saw him glance briefly in her direction before continuing his conversation.

Hermione smiled to herself, it was a rare thing when a man was actually, unabashedly attracted to her.

Deciding to push all of her worries into the shadows for the time being, she willed every bit of happiness into her mind and decided to just release her apprehension for the play they were about to watch. She loved her parents and wanted to create a wonderful memory for them.

Perhaps there weren't going to be many more like it.

So, without further ado, she smiled and focused on nothing but the night at hand.

As they walked through the busy streets of London towards the theatre, Hermione reveled in the company of her family, as well as the city night life.

She was excited about seeing the production of _Beauty and the Beast_; it had always been one of her favorite stories as well as her favorite Disney movie.

A grin was plastered on her face as they made their way through the crowds of people.

The flashing lights of the theatre crossed her eyes like a carnival, and Hermione eagerly gripped her father's arm. It had been a long time since she'd felt so excited about anything.

They waited in the line, tickets in hand, and moved forward at a tip-toe pace, though Hermione didn't care. Nothing could put a dent in the night she was determined to make perfect.

The usher at the ticket stand was young and as he saw her a silly grin crossed his face, reminding her briefly of Ron. He was nothing compared to the dashing waiter from the restaurant, but Hermione couldn't help but feel flattered all the same.

Two guys taking an interest in her within a matter of hours was a bit overwhelming, to say the least. It far deviated from the treatment she was used to, where the entirety of the male population ceaselessly overlooked her.

They passed him and walked into the theatre where the temperature was several degrees colder. Hermione shivered and put on her sweater, before placing her hand within her father's. He smiled and squeezed her hand gently.

It was rather dark, with only a few lamps placed along the walls for light, but Hermione could still make out the intricate decorations throughout the hallway. The place was beautiful, almost like a palace, and she was enjoying every moment of the experience.

They were escorted to their seats, and Hermione let out a lengthy exhale as she gazed down the rows and rows of seating to the stage below. They had gotten a section near the top and so their view was entirely clear and unobstructed.

Hermione felt a sensational plummeting feeling as she realized how high they actually were from the ground floor, and also from the effect of the staircase-like design of the seating.

She had visited many theatres with her parents in the past, but none were so grand as this, nor so breathtaking.

Leaning her head against her dad's shoulder, Hermione closed her eyes and smiled. Was there any feeling in the world comparable to the one she was presently enjoying? She couldn't imagine there was. She felt utterly safe, loved, and cherished, in a way that nothing and no one could destroy.

Several, countless minutes passed in which her anticipation steadily grew. When the music started to play, her heart began to race in its excitement.

All lights faded completely, and Hermione grinned as the first performer walked out onto the stage and bellowed the opening line.

The play was magnificent, possibly one of the most beautiful portrayals Hermione had ever seen. Throughout its entirety, she felt overwhelmed by all the surging emotions being fed off by the actors' energy.

The Disney version of _Beauty and the Beast_ was never going to be the same for her.

The silhouettes of the performers amidst the lighting, and the enchanting orchestra and mesmerizing dances, were racing before Hermione's eyes and enticing her mind.

During one of the acts, which was by far her favorite, Hermione watched as Beauty walked over to the diary sitting upon a desk, and read aloud the poem that had mysteriously appeared there, her voice ringing angelically throughout the theatre.

"Gentle Beauty, put aside your fear.

You are chosen to be princess here.

Let your wishes with your will unite,

Take your Prince from darkness into light..."

The poem wound its way into Hermione's heart, embedding itself there and touching her in a strange way. She couldn't quite discern why it had affected her so deeply, though she was far from dismissing it.

Hermione found that she loved plays, perhaps as much as even novels. It was the physical portrayal of a story she had always loved, and seeing what her own imagination had conjured was a rare and wonderful thing. No form of magic could duplicate such an art.

Plays were movies without the Hollywood exaggeration, and Hermione reveled in it.

She felt her eyes actually watering during one of the final scenes, where beauty finds the beast dying amidst his beloved rose bushes.

"No, dear Beast, (said Beauty) you must not die; live to be my husband; from this moment I give you my hand, and swear to be none but yours. Alas! I thought I had only a friendship for you, but, the grief I now feel convinces me, that I cannot live without you."

Hermione watched as the Beast suddenly ascended and transformed into a beautiful Prince, leaving Beauty in awe and amazement.

The two shared a magical kiss, during which Hermione felt a twinge of a foreign fantasy. She wanted a kiss that was as magical, and enchanting as the ones depicted in all the greatest fairytales. However, her sensibilities resurfaced and diminished such a bygone dream.

A few moments later, after the grand finale, the actors all joined hands and took their bows, during which Hermione applauded most heartily.

She cheered and grinned as they all gradually departed, exiting stage left.

The lights came on, and people began rising from their seats, but Hermione and her parents sat for several moments longer.

"Did you enjoy it?" Nathaniel asked.

Hermione nodded with a smile, "oh yes, it was wonderful."

He grinned before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and planting a tender kiss on forehead.

"I love you, pumpkin."

She closed her eyes, "I love you too, dad."

The trio sat for a few moments longer before rising and walking out into the atrium, where there were throngs of people lining up for autographs.

Hermione had never understood the insane frenzy that overcame individuals when it came to autographs. What was so special about a signature?

She shook her head as she watched the people in line, before looking up at her parents and chuckling. They snickered too before making their way through the throes of people.

As Hermione followed them out into the night, she spotted something within her peripheral and, turning her head she furrowed her brows as she saw no one significant within the crowd.

'_Strange,'_ she thought, '_could've sworn I saw something familiar.'_

Shrugging it away she dug her hands into her pockets and watched as her father intertwined his hand with her mom's.

Her mind flashed to Ron and, for a brief instant she imagined he and her walking as her parents did, hand-in-hand, with not a care in the world; Comfortable, leisurely, content. Was that not enough to fulfill a relationship?

Perhaps she should give him a chance.

Hermione looked across the street and saw another couple walking together. They were young, glamorous, and obviously spellbound by one another.

The girl was practically glowing from his mere proximity, as she grinned and laughed and blushed. He was entranced by her, staring deeply into her eyes and holding her as close as he possibly could.

They looked as if they could fly, their spirits soaring through the air in a breathless and graceful array of emotions.

Hermione swallowed but couldn't help but stare as they walked past, their eyes focused on nothing but each other.

The wind played at her hair as she watched them, the cold bite of the night caressing her face and arms.

Their relationship appeared passionate, delicate, and blissfully ignorant.

Was that how a relationship was supposed to be?

Averting her gaze back to her parents who were conversing over what they should make for dinner the following night, Hermione smiled.

She and Ron knew absolutely everything there was to know about one another and in that there was security. She knew that she could wholly trust him and never need to fear a change of heart.

She was so lost in thought that she nearly bumped into someone and, looking up she muttered a quick apology before taking a quick inhale of breath.

Looking down at her was the waiter from the restaurant. He recognized her instantly and smiled.

"Pardon me; I wasn't watching where I was going."

Hermione's mouth fell open and she looked behind him to see that her parents had both stopped and turned around.

"Are you alright?" he pressed.

Hermione nodded before finally gathering her senses, "yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

He smirked, "wonderful. I'm Darius Allegretti, by the way."

Hermione managed a small smile as she shook hands with him uncomfortably. "Hermione Granger."

"A pleasure to meet you, Hermione," He replied bowing his head slightly.

Hermione hesitated a moment before slowly walking past him, eager to remove herself from the awkwardness of the situation. "Well, I'd better get going."

He seemed disappointed by her statement before mustering a grin, "Indeed. I hope to see you around."

Hermione only nodded before joining her parents and desperately battling the flush that had crept over her visage.

"He really seems to fancy you, pumpkin." Her father proclaimed with a grin.

"Yes, and he's very fine looking as well," her mother added.

Hermione shook her head, "I already told both of you about Ron, I don't know why you're trying to pair me with some waiter."

Her father laughed, "We're just messing around with you, sweetheart. No need to get all flustered."

Hermione sighed and then turned and snuck a look at the boy who was already disappearing into the crowd. She was certain she would never run into him again.

It was funny the way life worked. It was comprised primarily of choices. Moment to moment; thought by thought. A potential relationship had just been shoved into her face and she had made a choice to shove it right back.

There were several outcomes within the future, webs of possibilities, left to the hands of mortals to weave and create a path for themselves, while also affecting the paths of those connected to them.

Time was certainly a fragile concept. Perhaps the most intricate and delicate factor of life. No one could really control it, despite the use of time turners and the like. There were just too many moving pieces to possibly govern every outcome.

Hermione's eyes drifted to the sky, as was habit. She bit her lip as she found herself observing the beauty the great expanse exhibited.

The sounds of the night were drifting towards her from all directions, and the headlights and traffic lights were flashing before her eyes with great intensity.

Hermione had recognized long ago that she tended to think far too much, often looking deeper than was necessary. However, she could not summon the will to just allow her mind to remain blank.

It exhausted her indescribably and she wondered if it there were possibly other people like her in the world; People who understood her thought process and who could empathize with her frustration.

She sincerely doubted it.

After maneuvering the sidewalks of downtown London, Hermione and her parents finally reached their home and stepped inside.

Hermione realized that all the excitement of the day had left her feeling utterly exhausted and so, after telling her parents that she head immensely enjoyed the evening and wished them both goodnight, she walked into her room and felt the weariness of the day growing in intensity.

However, though her body was tired, her mind was active and awake and so she knew sleep was out of the question for the next couple of hours.

She flicked on her lamp and watched as the room was instantly illuminated by the golden glow. She loved the way lamplight made a room look. She just loved the feeling of warmth and intimacy it somehow inflicted.

Biting her lip she looked over at her stack of books and saw _Desiree_ lying in wait for her indulgence. Though she ached to return to the world of the French heroine, Hermione knew that something more important needed to be done and so, without another thought, she sat at her desk, picked up her quill and began to scribble on the parchment.

_Dear Ronald, _

She stopped and racked her brain for inspiration on how to begin. After a few moments she decided to just try and let her thoughts pour out uninhibited.

_I have had the most interesting week imaginable. You will not believe all that has happened! First off, I ran into Draco Malfoy of all people. It was so strange. He explained to me that the dark lord had banished he and his family to the Muggle world as punishment for displeasing him. I think he's telling the truth but, I cannot be too sure. This was Friday evening. It's actually somewhat hysterical to imagine him in this situation. I figured you and Harry would be able to appreciate this fact. _

_Saturday night I went out with a girl from work and a few of her friends. We went to some nightclub downtown and it was surprisingly amazing. However, ran into Draco again, he was there with his father for some business meeting of some sort. He looked so lost! It was quite odd to see him so uncomfortable. Refreshing though, I have to say. Later that night, I ran into him a third time on my way home. He walked with me and seemed…content somehow. It was a very peculiar experience. _

_Enough about him though. I just got back from an evening out with my parents. We went to a restaurant which I have not dined at since my childhood. The memories were indescribable. Afterward, we went to the production of Beauty and the Beast, and it was quite possibly the most beautiful display I've ever experienced. It was truly touching; something that affected every emotion in my being. _

She bit her lip and flexed her hand as she thought over whether or not to divulge into her thoughts concerning her recent sentimentality towards the Muggle world.

_I miss you and Harry so terribly and I can't tell you how dearly I long to laugh with you and enjoy your company. You two mean more to me than anything. I love you both with all my heart. _

_Your caring and beloved friend, _

_Hermione_

Sighing, she sat back in her chair and shook her head. It was so difficult for her to open up to Ron anymore. It was so strange. She had always been able to talk to him about anything, but her recent, romantic feelings had brought along complications that were extremely frustrating.

Rolling her eyes she eyed the letter a final time, looking over it for any errors. Satisfied, she wrapped it within an envelope and set it aside.

After resting her hands a bit she took out another piece of parchment and, grasping her quill once more, began to write a similar letter to Harry.

However, within his she included how desperately she was going to miss her home, her parents, Crookshanks, and the life she had grown up within. She explained how much it had been bothering her the past few weeks and how concerned she was for her parents' safety in the upcoming war. Everyone she knew was at risk, and the dark lord's reach was unfathomable. Everyone was a liability and she described how deeply it had been torturing her not to be able to explain anything at all to them.

She finished with a promise that she would go to the burrow and celebrate his 17th birthday with him.

Hermione smiled and felt the tears brimming within her eyes as her memories with her two beloved friends inflicted her mind. They were every bit as dear to her as the recollections of her youth and, this realization dawned a new strength and resolve within her spirit.

She loved both worlds equally, both lives.

She needed to defend them both, no matter the cost. They were her homelands, her heritage, her identity.

And _no one_ was going to take them away from her.

Sealing Harry's letter alongside Ron's she gazed down at them and smiled. She loved them so much. More than they would ever know.

Rising and stretching her arms over head she walked over to her window and looked up at the sky.

She saw a red, blinking light and shook her head. Draco had thought it was magic, showing through from the other world. He obviously missed his home. There was no other explanation for the level of excitement he had exhibited upon spotting it.

She found that for the very first time she could empathize with him on something. They both felt a sense of loss and abandon. Nothing was ever going to be the same, for anyone.

As she once again spotted the great dragon in the sky she thought over the line from _Beauty and the Beast: _

"_Gentle Beauty, put aside your fear. _

_You are chosen to be princess here. _

_Let your wishes with your will unite, _

_Take your Prince from darkness into light..." _

"Take my prince," she whispered thoughtfully. "Who is my prince?"


	6. A Gentle, Soft Smile

**Chapter 6**

A Gentle, Soft Smile

_July 17__th_

Hermione woke to the sound of the wind rustling against her window pane. It was strong and the sky was a pale, dreary gray.

The sun however was visible from behind the thin mantel of cloud, giving the sky an ethereal, fascinating appearance.

Smiling, she rose and yawned. Crookshanks stretched himself out as he stood and settled himself atop her pillow. He always loved to steal her spot when she woke up.

Hermione gave him an affectionate pet and scratched him beneath his chin. "You're a good boy."

Crookshanks simply purred and leaned into her palm.

Hermione's heart swelled at the sight of his gentle and adorable form, curled into a ball.

However, she couldn't stare at him for long or she would be late for work. After a sigh, Hermione turned and went about her morning preparations, eager to get a head start so that she would have time to ease herself into her work shift.

Grabbing her habitual coffee and homemade scone, she planted a kiss on both her father and mother's cheeks before stepping outside with a bounce in her step. Last night had been wonderful. Perfect, even. Which was actually a rarity compared to what she was used to.

Despite the lackluster of the day, Hermione actually thought it was rather beautiful, in its own unique way.

She passed the park and sighed at its emptiness. Normally it was filled with the laughter and excited shouts of children. However, the majority of children were not yet awake and so the place was left looking like a ghost town in their absence.

She continued walking and passed the bookstore and then the café where she had went with Draco. The memory always made her snicker slightly.

Walking into the diner she smiled at Sarah who ran over to her eagerly. Hermione was embraced into a tight hug, which she returned with a mere pat to the girl's back.

"You wanna come over to my apartment later this afternoon? Natalie and I are gonna order some Chinese and look over some old yearbooks."

"Yeah sure," Hermione replied with a shrug, "What time should I come over?"

"Uhm," Sarah pondered for a moment, "how about three?"

Hermione nodded, "three it is."

Sarah grinned and then skipped over to her table section.

Hermione went into the back and clocked in before walking out to her first table.

However, the couple she saw sitting there nearly caused her to drop the pot of coffee she was carrying.

"Ah, miss Granger," the sleek, distinguished gentleman drawled.

"Mr. Malfoy," Hermione replied, eyes wide.

Narcissa eyed her skeptically, only slightly aware of who she was.

"How have you been?" Lucius continued with a faint trace of a smirk on his features.

"Uhm," Hermione stammered, "I've been alright."

It took her a moment to recover from the shock of seeing the Malfoy couple but, upon doing so, she was able to overcome the intimidation that had initially paralyzed her.

They had no wands; they were not a threat to her.

"Would you like some of our coffee this morning? It's complimentary."

He motioned towards his cup and then watched as she poured it with a steady hand.

Turning towards Narcissa she indicated her cup, "would you like some as well, Madame?"

Narcissa merely nodded and allowed Hermione to pour her some as well.

They both eyed her critically but Hermione ignored it and proceeded to ask them if they had decided on anything.

"Yes, I believe I will just have the French toast with cinnamon, cardamom, and brown sugar." Lucius replied flatly while Hermione held his gaze unwaveringly.

"Alright and," she turned to his wife, "for you?"

Narcissa folded her hands, "I will have the mushroom and pepper omelet. Hold the cheese, lightly sauté the mushrooms and only put a small amount of peppers within the folded egg and place the remainder on the side."

Hermione fought back the urge to sigh in exasperation. "It will be just a few moments. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

They both just dismissed her with a flick of their hands, and Hermione felt briefly as if they considered her one of their elves, a slave to their bidding. Oh how she wished she could prove them wrong.

Walking into the kitchen she exhaled loudly and shook her head. What infuriating people the Malfoy's were; the entire lot of them.

"Special instructions on that omelet," Hermione said to the grill cook, who nodded and rolled his eyes.

Hermione grinned before gathering the materials she needed for the French toast. She wondered in passing why Draco hadn't accompanied his parents. Perhaps he was just off wandering around somewhere, or maybe they just needed a break from him.

She snickered at this last thought. If she were Draco's mother she'd definitely need some time away.

After waiting the required number of minutes, Hermione walked back out and asked them if they were still doing alright. They both simply nodded without even looking in her direction.

As she was walking back another table in her section was seated and, grabbing the coffee pot she proceeded to wait on them as well.

Narcissa seemed to be eyeing her disapprovingly, as if appalled that she would dare wait on anyone else while they were seated there.

Hermione merely turned and grinned in their direction before stalking off into the kitchen and grabbing their food.

After inspecting the omelet and making sure all of Narcissa's specifications were right, as well as Lucius', Hermione hoisted the tray above her head and made her way back to their table.

Leaning down carefully, she placed each of their plates gently in front of them.

"You are positive they cooked this right?" Narcissa asked doubtfully.

Hermione knew where this was going and so she simply stared the woman in the eye and nodded. "I am absolutely certain, Mrs. Malfoy that your omelet was made according to your instruction."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed and she flicked her hand to signify that Hermione was dismissed.

Hermione fought back the urge to roll her eyes, "I will come back in a few minutes and ask how everything tastes."

Turning she walked over to her other table and took their order, easily conversing with the man and his son, who seemed to be having the time of his life.

She waited several minutes before walking back out to the Malfoy's table and eying Narcissa questioningly.

"So how is everything, Madame?"

Narcissa said nothing, simply chewed her food and refused to meet Hermione's gaze.

Lucius, however, offered a response.

"The bread itself is of fine quality but the spices could be improved upon."

Hermione nodded and forced a smile, "of course, sir, I will let my manger know right away and I am sure he will switch suppliers as soon as he is notified."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "is that sarcasm I detect in your voice, Miss Granger?"

Hermione smiled sweetly, "no, sir."

Lucius smirked, "Do you treat all of your customers with such indifference?"

Hermione shook her head and honestly replied, "No. I am always pleasant and polite."

"Indeed," Lucius replied.

Narcissa shoved her plate away, "there are too many peppers in this omelet, I wanted the majority on the side. I thought I was clear on that."

Hermione stared down at her for a few moments before turning to walk away.

"Miss Granger," Lucius said silkily.

Hermione looked back and saw him appraising her, his eyes searching hers for a moment.

"Yes, sir?"

He was silent for several moments before looking away, "never mind."

Confused and a bit unnerved, Hermione walked into the kitchen and proceeded to print out their check.

"Table giving you trouble?" Ted asked, concerned. "I will go out there and talk to them if you want me to."

Hermione shook her head, "no, it's alright. I know who they are."

He shrugged, "just let me know."

Hermione smiled, "thank you."

As she made her way over to the distinguished pair, Hermione handed Lucius his bill and then asked if they would like to take any of the leftovers home.

They both seemed to scoff at that notion and Hermione gazed down at them with disdain. Is this how Draco was going to turn out? They were ten times as unbearable as their son.

"Miss Granger," Lucius again called out as she started walking away.

She turned and he motioned for her to come forward. Slightly hesitant, Hermione stepped over to him as he stood from his seat.

Narcissa donned her jacket and still refused to meet her gaze.

Hermione swallowed and looked up at the man whose hate for her kind was as strong as her own abhorrence for the dark lord.

He handed her a large sum of money and then tilted his head. "Is this not the social custom in your world?"

Hermione looked down at the generous tip within her palm with furrowed brows. She had not in a million years expected the Malfoy's to tip her for waiting on them.

She thought them the type of people who just expected those beneath them to answer to their beck and call, without reward. They _were_ slaveholders, after all.

Swallowing she looked up to see his face, expressionless and distant.

"Thank you," she muttered with widened eyes.

Lucius simply walked past her and then escorted his wife out the door, not bothering to look back and offer a response.

So many strange situations were presenting themselves to her that it was beginning to overpower her mind. What had all that been about?

Hermione pocketed the money and then cleaned off their table. They held no respect for her and she had treated them with only forced civility. Had Lucius somehow sensed how difficult it had been for her to stand in his presence and act entirely nonchalant despite her own revulsion toward him?

Did Lucius Malfoy actually uphold an honor code of some sort? Vague though it was?

The Malfoy's were surprising her more and more every day.

Narcissa, however, was an entirely distant story. Hermione took an instant dislike to that woman the moment she caught her critical eye.

The rest of the day progressed normally and at noon Ted informed her that she was free to go.

Hermione smiled as she walked out, the feeling of freedom wafting over her along with the wind, which had gained velocity since earlier that morning.

As she strolled down the sidewalk her mind recounted the encounter with Lucius and his wife. She could not get over how strange the entire ordeal was. Perhaps they had always put on an act at home, in order to appease the dark lord.

Or were they putting on an act for the Muggles, in order to gain their trust?

Hermione laughed at herself. Lord if she knew.

As she was walking past the park, she observed that it was still silent, save for the chirping of birds and the rustle of the leaves within the wind.

There were still a few hours to go before the shrill sound of laughter would fill its space.

Hermione smiled and looked away before promptly returning her gaze to the swing set, where she spotted a familiar figure, swaying slowly.

She wondered why he would be sitting there of all places, before remembering that she always seemed to find him in the places he least belonged.

Debating whether to just continue walking home or go over and say something to him, Hermione bit her lip and wrung her hands in her pockets.

Then, with a smirk, she quickly made up her mind as an idea came to her.

Sauntering over to him as quietly as possible, Hermione held her breath until she was standing directly behind him.

Fighting a smile, she bent down real low and said in the most intimidating voice she could muster, "Do you usually sit around in parks by yourself?"

Draco Malfoy jerked his head around, nearly falling off the swing as he did so.

Hermione laughed heartily and crossed her arms. "Not so pleasant is it?"

"Granger!" Draco growled his eyes narrowing, "What is wrong with you?"

Hermione shrugged, "Just asserting my revenge. Though I daresay you startled me far worse than I did you."

Draco shook his head before turning and continuing to rock back and forth on the swing, his bare feet digging into the sand beneath him.

Hermione walked around to stand in front of him, her arms still crossed.

"So what are you doing out here anyway?"

Draco shrugged but remained silent, his eyes fixed on his feet.

"Your parents came into the restaurant where I work, you know."

Draco looked up in surprise, "You're a waitress?"

Hermione nodded, "yeah, figured it'd be a good way to spend my time."

Draco rolled his eyes, "only you would consider work to be a good way to spend your time."

Shrugging, Hermione replied, "So I'm productive."

"Perhaps a little _too_ productive, "he countered.

Hermione sighed and then sat on the adjacent swing, "why weren't you with them?"

Draco seemed slightly annoyed by her questioning but answered all the same. "I had already eaten breakfast. I didn't feel like going out." He suddenly smirked, "wish I knew you worked there though. I would have tried to make things as difficult as possible for you."

Hermione glared, "oh your parents made things plenty difficult all on their own."

Draco grinned, "Well of course they did."

Hermione wondered whether or not she should ask him about the tip money before promptly deciding against it. _That_ conversation was bound for disaster.

"You do anything interesting this weekend, Granger? Other than pine for the companionship of those two blokes?"

Hermione released a heavy exhale before replying. "Actually, yes. I went to a club with some friends and ran into a rather pompous, arrogant, gent." She smiled in satisfaction at Draco's glare before continuing. "And on Sunday I went out with my parents and saw the theatrical production of _Beauty and the Beast_."

Draco grinned, "I went to that too."

The startled expression on Hermione's face only served to widen Draco's smile.

"You did?"

He nodded, "We had a reserved box."

"Of course you did" She replied, though still perplexed. "It's kind of strange that you'd actually go to _that_ play though."

"I love the story," he stated.

Hermione suddenly broke into laughter. "_You? You_ love that story?"

"What?"

Hermione settled herself before replying. "It's all about the beauty within a person, and about not judging anyone by anything external or prejudiced. I think that you of all people understand that concept the least."

Draco remained silent as he pondered her answer before finally shrugging. "That doesn't mean I can't appreciate the romanticized view of things."

"Lord," Hermione rolled her eyes, "is there any depth to you at all?"

Draco looked up at her before smirking, "maybe."

Shaking her head, Hermione bit her lip and looked down at her shoes, which were being covered by sand.

A sudden realization dawned on her. She_ had_ seen Draco there. A brief flash within her peripheral as they walked into the lobby had caught her attention. It had been _him_.

"So why is it you tend to turn up wherever I go?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.

Draco blinked several times. "What'd you mean?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "you know what I mean."

Draco sighed, "Because, honestly," he turned his head to meet her gaze, "I think we have the same interests, Granger."

His response surprised her, to say the least. "Really?"

Nodding, Draco turned back to the sand at his feet. "We're both intellectual, and appreciate the classics of literature and art, while also longing and striving for the opportunity to just release all thought and enjoy rare moments of unique excitement."

Hermione's mouth parted, "Am I really hearing these words from you?"

Draco shrugged, "what? It's just fact, nothing more."

He was right, she reasoned. They _were_ similar. On _some_ level.

Looking up to the strangely lit sky, Hermione breathed in the fresh scent of the air and closed her eyes as the powerful wind embraced her.

"Feels wonderful out here doesn't it?" Draco asked, watching her reaction to the weather.

Hermione looked down at him and smiled, "sure does."

She suddenly tilted her head to the side as she watched his eyes flicker from her face to his hands.

"You miss being home?"

Draco looked up at her in surprise, "why do you want to know?"

Hermione shrugged, "no particular reason."

After observing her briefly he slowly responded, "of course I do. You think I actually like being placed somewhere as foul as this?"

Shaking her head, Hermione replied. "I dunno, Draco. You _do _seem content here." She looked down at him, "almost seems as if you feel more secure here; safe from the reach of the dark lord."

Draco shook his head, "we're never completely out of his reach."

Hermione swallowed but said nothing.

Draco exhaled softly, "everything is so much different than it used to be. I just wish we could go back to the days of our 1st and 2nd years, you know? Before things began to turn grim and life-threatening."

Hermione chuckled gently, "for_ you_ those years were probably grand but Voldemort _was_ there during our first year, and in our second year the chamber of secrets was opened."

Sighing, Draco began to sway faster on his swing. "yeah, that's true."

They sat in silence for several moments, both looking down at their feet, and rocking easily on the swings. A brief sensation of peace and tranquility settled over their minds, offering a welcome feeling of reprieve.

The emptiness surrounding them was surprising pleasant, and as silence overtook the expanse that separated them, they simply reveled in the cool breeze coursing through the air, and the delightful scent of nature, which was filled with lingering traces of the morning moisture.

Hermione let her eyes close as she slipped off her shoes and dug them into the warm sand. Gripping the chains on the swing she began to move back and forth more rapidly.

It was odd how light she felt at the moment, beside a boy whom she had never met eye to eye with.

She hadn't felt so weightless in as long as she could remember.

It had been a long time since she had actually just done nothing; allowing the moments to pass her by in a slow, unhurried rhythm.

"Granger," Draco suddenly called out.

Hermione looked down at him and saw that he was sitting completely still, just gazing up at her with his head tilted to one side.

"Hmm?" she answered.

He smirked softly, "I've never seen you so complacent."

Hermione shrugged, "yeah, well honestly, we haven't really spent all that much time in one another's presence."

"That may be true," Draco countered, "but I am fairly good at reading other people and you strike me as the sort that overly exhorts herself and spends a lot of time contemplating and worrying over even the most trivial of matters. You stress over almost everything and you punish yourself severely in areas of fault."

Hermione's mouth parted slowly as she stopped swinging. "What makes you think I'm like that?"

He was silent for several moments, and seemed to debate whether or not to reveal what he was about to say next.

Returning his gaze to her face he smiled faintly, "because I'm the same way."

Hermione just stared at him for several breaths, before looking away and up at the sky.

"The more I learn about you, Draco, the stranger it becomes."

Draco just rolled his eyes, "why is that?"

Hermione shrugged, "because, at Hogwarts you were always the rude, jealous, insensitive boy who did nothing but get on my nerves most of the time. I never bothered to try and figure you out. You were just a blank canvas that I pretty much ignored or didn't notice."

Draco glared, "well, in all fairness, you were nothing but a snobby, stuck-up know-it-all who was determined to know more than anyone else in class. You had both a serious attitude and an ego problem. Do you have any idea how annoying you were? Raising your hand the second any questions were asked?"

Hermione crossed her arms, "it's not my fault that I was the only one who ever knew the answers to anything."

"Look, Granger," Draco replied shaking his head, "just because you were always the first to answer does not mean you were the only one who knew anything."

Hermione's lips pursed as she narrowed her eyes impossibly lower. "How do you know?"

Draco smirked, "because, I, for one, pretty much knew all of the answers as well. You seem to forget that you_ and_ I hold the top marks in the school."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "well then why don't you participate more in class? If it bothers you_ so_ much?"

"Because, Granger, I don't actually like to be thought of as a know-it-all. Everyone already knows that you're top of your class. When the professors ask questions, they're actually trying to test those individuals who aren't doing so well."

"But," Hermione furrowed her brows, "they always ask if_ anyone _knows the answer, and so I take that to mean that _anyone_ can answer."

"Why would you answer though, Granger, if not to show off in some way? Why do you endlessly prove a fact that everyone has already acknowledged?"

Hermione was silent as she pondered what he was saying.

"Do you think you _still_ deserve recognition?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked away, thinking hard.

Draco tilted his head to one side, "hmm?"

Hermione looked up at him and smiled sardonically, "because maybe I enjoy it. Maybe I enjoy answering questions. I love to be recognized for all the hard work that I do. I study all of the time, probably ten times more than everyone else. I even have to do some of Harry and Ron's homework on top of all the work that I have to do. I mean, Merlin, I even accepted a time turner from McGonagall during our 3rd year so that I could take on _extra _classes. I love studying, I love learning things, even though it stresses the hell out of me, I enjoy it. And I enjoy showing off what I know because I believe I've earned the right to do so."

Draco blinked and gazed at her speechlessly, for once having to pause and think of a reply.

Hermione looked away, biting her lip again.

"Well," he began, "I do in fact know how you feel. Somewhat anyway."

"No you don't," she denied shaking her head.

"I do though," he continued. "When I'm not training for Quidditch I'm usually always studying. I don't have a whole lot of free time. That is another similarity between us. We are incessantly ambitious, granted in different ways, but still equally as so. It may also surprise you to learn that I actually respect you for that trait. It's Slytherin, and if you weren't Muggle-born I believe that you would've had a fair shot at being placed in our house."

Hermione couldn't help the smile that spread across her face at what he'd just admitted to her.

"I actually wanted to be placed in either Slytherin or Ravenclaw."

Draco nodded, "yeah, I still don't understand why you were placed in Gryffindor, of all places. You're aspirations are so much higher than that."

Hermione glared, "hey now, don't go on insulting my house. I do appreciate it, mind you."

Draco shook his head, "I can't help it, Granger, I cannot stand that house."

Hermione sighed, "you're only saying that because Harry was placed there."

"Yes, that is a major part of it, but it's also because they're a bunch of lazy, dramatic sods who have nothing better to do than run around and cause mischief. Don't you dare deny it either."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, "yeah, I know."

"Another thing," Draco said, recalling something else she had said. "Why in Merlin's name do you do Potter and Weasely's homework?"

Hermione shrugged, "because they struggle with it sometimes."

Draco scoffed at that, "c'mon, Granger, it's because they're lazy. We all struggle every now and then, but that's how we learn. They will never be able to learn for themselves if you do it for them all the time. Do you appreciate being used?"

Hermione bit her lip, "well, it's nice to feel needed."

Draco shrugged, "ah, but there's a difference between people needing you and people taking advantage of you.

Hermione felt a slight ache in her chest as she heard this. "They care about me, Draco, and I like to help them out."

He shook his head, "I'm sure they do but, can you honestly say that you haven't felt the slightest bit used by them?"

Hermione slowly nodded, "well yes but, Harry has so much to deal with concerning the Dark Lord that he hardly has time for anything else. I know you despise him but, he's actually a very selfless person. He cares deeply for the well being of others. Do you have any idea of the sacrifices he's made?"

"Like what?"

"Well," she searched her mind for a safe example. There was no way she could tell him that Harry was planning to give up an entire year of his education for the sake of the Wizarding World. He was going to walk away from all his friends and the girl he loved in order to save those whose lives hung in the balance.

"He has always been the one to face off the Dark Lord, and he always does so despite his fear of death. He knows that if he cannot find a way to rid the world of He-who-must-not-be-named once and for all that only death and destruction will result."

Draco swallowed and looked down at his hands before shrugging, "okay so, that explains Harry. What about Ron?"

'_Ron_,' Hermione thought, her heart jumping slightly, '_what about Ron?_'

"I don't know," she replied, honestly not knowing what to say in his defense.

Draco just looked at her with a knowing smile on his face. "He takes advantage of you."

This prospect caused the ache to return, and the flutter to subside. Did Ron really take advantage of her? The romantic side of her being fought against it, but her mind had to wonder.

"Can we not talk about this please?" she pleaded.

Draco smirked, "hit a nerve, did I?"

Hermione glared, "quite possibly, and I would be wary if I were you considering you're wandless."

Draco's mouth snapped shut, "it'd be nice if you could stop pointing that out."

Hermione shrugged, "it'd be nice if you would switch to a different topic."

They both remained silent for a little while before Draco suddenly seemed to recall something else she head revealed. "So, McGonagall gave you a time turner? Is that how Buckbeak got away? Is that how Sirius Black escaped?"

'_Lord_,' she thought, '_he's cleverer than I thought_.'

Hermione just stared at him wordlessly before obstinately looking away. "I don't know, maybe."

Draco nodded, "yep, thought so."

Hermione just grinned and released a heavy exhale. "It seems like forever ago."

"I know what you mean," he agreed.

Hermione looked down at her hands and shook her head sadly, "I miss Dumbledore."

Glancing up to see Draco's reaction she saw that he had averted his gaze to the ground, a guilty expression on his features.

It had technically been his fault, but it had not been by his hand. She understood that he had not fully realized what he had been getting himself into.

She had never known how alone Draco Malfoy actually was.

"You made the right choice, in the end." She consoled with a warm smile.

Draco looked up at her in surprise, "you don't blame me for what happened?"

Hermione shook her head, "no."

Slowly, a smile spread across his face. A gentle, soft smile; the first Hermione had ever seen.

He had the slightest traces of a pair of dimples at the corners of his cheeks, and the area around his eyes creased in a way that reminded her of her father.

Her mouth parted. How kind it looked. How strange it was on the face of Draco Malfoy. It didn't belong there.

But it was. It was there and it was directed at her.

"Thank you," he stated sincerely.

Hermione struggled for a response, though it was difficult. Her brain was over-encumbered by many confused thoughts.

She now saw how strongly their beloved Headmaster's death had tortured him and, it made her feel sorry for the boy who had at one time so despised her.

"You're welcome, Draco."

As soon as the words escaped her, she felt a vibration in her pocket and, eyes widening she pulled out her cell phone and saw that Sara was trying to call her.

"Oh Merlin," she breathed looking up at him. "I completely lost track of time."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, furrowing his brows and eying the device in her hands curiously.

"I was supposed to hang out with a girl from work, and I didn't realize how late it had gotten."

Draco laughed, "this seems to happen a lot."

Hermione glared, "well whatever, you always distract me."

His eyes widened and he grinned, "Oh do I?"

Hermione pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes further, "stop it."

He laughed at her frustration. "See you around, Granger."

Hermione shook her head but forced a smile, "You too, Draco."

She picked up her bag and slipped her shoes on before hurriedly walking away, a smile etched onto her face.

"YOU FEEL LIKE ELABORATING ON THAT COMMENT YOU MADE IN THE CAFÉ YET?" Draco hollered as she reached the sidewalk.

"NOPE!" she shouted back, shaking her head.

As she heard his laugh, she rolled her eyes.

"_Git."_


	7. State of His Heart

**Chapter 7**

State of His Heart

_July 17__th (continued)_

As Hermione reached Sara's apartment, she knocked on the door and bit her lip as she waited for the girl to answer.

Her conversation with Draco was swirling through her mind unremittingly. She had felt a strange sort of connection to him, and the feeling it invoked was indescribable. She didn't even possess the desire to try and discern it.

"Hey!" Sara greeted with a wide grin, ushering Hermione inside.

Hermione smiled and muttered an apology for being late.

Sara waved it off and then motioned towards the living area, where Natalie was already seated on the sofa, an array of books covering the coffee table in front of her.

Hermione slowly took a seat next to the Eurasian and looking down at the table, inhaled as she saw the hundreds of pictures splattered about the space.

"So what are you guys up to, exactly?"

Sara shrugged, "reminiscing over our High school days."

Hermione shook her head, "wow, you guys have accumulated a lot of photographs."

Natalie grinned, "Yeah, I took a photography class. It's something I've always been interested in. I'd like to make it my profession someday."

Hermione smiled as she briefly envisioned Colin Creevy with his camera before inwardly chiding herself. The peculiar little boy was nothing like beautiful, fashionable Natalie. It was strange how different people could be, despite sharing the same interests.

'_Like Draco and I'_ she thought.

As Sara and Natalie began to pour over the various albums and divulge into several accompanying tales, Hermione swallowed uncomfortably.

For the first time in all her years with Hogwarts, she realized what she had missed out on.

The two girls beside her had enjoyed a thorough and fulfilling High school experience. They had gone to prom, developed several crushes, attended rugby games, gone to parties and sat through mundane yet enjoyable classes with classmates that laughed along with them every day.

They had never been in near-death situations or carried fear in their hearts for the better part of six years.

They had never been ridiculed for their blood, or demeaned for their intelligence.

"This guy right here was so adorable!" Natalie squealed pointing to a picture of a blond-haired, blue-eyed catch.

Sara nodded in agreement, "yes, I remember him; Neal Sanders. He really was something."

Hermione tilted her head as she observed the subject of their attention. He was nice enough looking yet, with a start she noticed that he seemed to lack what almost all of the guys she knew possessed.

Maturity, as was developed from wisdom beyond their years. Almost everyone at Hogwarts had either seen or heard of things that were truly horrific. So horrific, in fact, that they would be inconceivable to a great percentage of the teenage population in the Muggle world.

Was it better to have maturity or ignorance? Hermione had never pondered such a question before and, upon being presented with it, she had no idea as to the appropriate answer.

"So, are there any boys at your school that you're interested in?"

Hermione blinked as she realized they were addressing her and, surfacing from her reverie, she simply furrowed her brows.

"Oh, uhm, yeah, I guess."

"Ooooh!" Sara clapped, "do tell!"

Hermione shifted slightly in her seat, as she felt her face redden.

"His name's Ron, one of my best friends." She bit her lip, "he's got red hair and blue eyes and a deep, soothing voice."

Natalie and Sara wore matching grins.

"Sounds dreamy," Natalie offered.

Sara nodded, "you seem to really like this guy. Are you two dating?"

For some reason Hermione felt extremely uncomfortable describing her feelings for Ron with the two girls. It was as if she were revealing something too secret to be shared in such a thoughtless way.

"No," she replied with a sigh, "we're not."

"Why?"

They both appeared immensely confused and Hermione found she had to glance away as she explained her situation.

"Well, I care a lot about him and, I don't know if I want to take the risk of sacrificing our friendship."

Sara placed a hand over hers, "I know exactly what you mean but, love means taking risks and not allowing those types of fears to mar what could be your perfect once-in-a-lifetime relationship."

Hermione bit her lip before shrugging and feigning nonchalance. "Yeah, I suppose you're right; I'm just being silly about the whole thing."

Sara appeared satisfied and then turned her attention to Natalie as they continued relaying stories with one another.

They giggled as they gushed over one guy after another, their giddiness infecting Hermione like a plague.

The situation with Ron was far too intricate for her to describe to them. Did it have to be though? How much did she actually like him? What was the actual, root of the situation?

She had not the slightest idea; all she knew was that she had been harboring feelings toward her friend for a couple of years, and those feelings were beginning to become a nuisance.

As Natalie began to describe what her first kiss had been like, Hermione's interest intensified.

She smiled happily as she told them all of the feelings she had felt. She detailed all of the sensations and wondrous warmth that had coursed through her.

It had been on her porch swing; she had been fourteen and he had lived a few houses down the street from her. It was during the summer and he had snuck out to see her.

They talked for several hours before he began to look nervous, and she noticed that he seemed to be pondering over how best to do or say something.

Butterflies began to flutter faster within her stomach as he caught her eye several times, with a look that was both penetrating and slightly mischievous.

It took him several minutes to finally muster the courage to place a hand on against her cheek and begin to move towards her.

Natalie's blush deepened as she depicted the actual kiss.

His lips met hers gently, unhurried and chaste. They were soft and warm, and her heart was pounding in pace with her breathing.

They sat kissing for countless moments before he finally pulled away and stated that he had to get back home.

Natalie shook her head. "I couldn't stop smiling for days and I was constantly replaying that moment within my mind."

Sara squealed in delight before pouring into her own first-kiss story. However, it was far less captivating than Natalie's had been and, as she was discussing it, Hermione let her mind wander.

Her first kiss had been with a boy in elementary school, before Hogwarts. However, the memory was slightly painful, as he had only kissed her as a dare.

His name was Billy McAvins, her first crush.

He was an only child, spoiled and full of himself. However, Hermione had been too young to care or to notice that he would everyday laugh at her along with his friends.

If she had possessed even the slightest bit of common sense, she would have steered clear of him, not allowing herself to become taken with such a person.

However, she everyday watched him in the playground, imagining herself a princess and he her prince charming. She used to write his name in her notebook and smile to herself every time his face entered her mind.

One day, as she was sitting on a swing, he came and sat next to her, a devilish smirk on his features. However, she didn't notice the impish look in his eyes, only saw the smile, and imagined it meant something it did not.

He uttered her name silkily before stating that he would like to give her something.

Hermione had been delighted beyond words, stupidly grinning and allowing the stars in her eyes to hide the unkindness about to ensue.

He leaned forward quickly and planted a firm and rigid kiss on her lips.

Hermione's heart fluttered as it never had before and she just stared at him for several seconds, her grin stuck in a wide and unabashed smile.

However, Billy suddenly started laughing and he was joined by the friends that had been standing nearby.

Hermione's face morphed into one of confusion before he dispelled all of her perplexity.

"Wow Billy, I didn't think you'd actually have the guts to do that!" one of the pretty blonde girls stated in a shrill, nasally voice.

One of the boys patted him on the shoulder, laughing uncontrollably. "Ugh, I definitely wouldn't have kissed _that _in a million years!"

Tears began to prick Hermione's eyes as she looked to Billy for an explanation, though her stomach was already plummeting with the realization of what had actually taken place.

Billy stood and continued to laugh, "You owe me twenty bucks, Charlie!"

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Hermione whimpered.

Billy giggled as he looked down at her, "kissing you was even worse than I imagined. I wouldn't have done it but, you know me, I never back down from a dare!"

They all wore exaggerated expressions of disgust and Billy suddenly leaned forward and pushed her off the swing, sending her falling backwards into the dirt.

"Stay down there!" he directed cruelly.

Tears relentlessly spilled down her cheeks, turning the dirt that was plastered on her face to mud.

One of her friends had been standing nearby and, upon spotting the sobbing girl, rushed over and shoved Billy with all her might.

"You leave Hermione alone!"

They continued to laugh as they made several jests about the crying girl on the ground.

Hermione's tears slowly began to ebb and, as she gazed down at her hands, covered by the moist earth, she felt a foreign feeling beginning to materialize within her.

Determination, such as she had never known, began to form a wall around the hurt that had been inflicted upon her. She picked herself off of the ground and then placed a hand on her friends shoulder to calm her before approaching Billy with a glare.

Billy was still chuckling and throwing insults as Hermione stared fixedly into his eyes.

Then, without preamble, Hermione reached out and struck him across the face as hard as she could.

The surprise overpowered all of his previous amusement, and as he gazed at her with widened eyes she smiled sardonically.

"Don't you ever dare touch me again, Billy McAvins."

Billy swallowed and then slowly turned and walked away, his friends following with puzzled looks on their faces.

Since that day, Hermione strove to steel herself against people like Billy McAvins. She formed a defense around her heart, and promised herself that she would never again be blinded by anyone in such a way.

The experience had made her stronger and, instead of focusing on boys as her friends did, she placed all of her energy into her academics.

Hermione smiled to herself at the memory, and she briefly allowed herself to ponder what had actually become of Billy McAvins.

"So, Hermione, what was your first kiss like?"

Hermione had been expecting the question and so she had a suitable answer ready.

"My first kiss was with a guy named Viktor. He was a foreign exchange student, per say."

Hermione grinned, "I was fourteen and he was three years older. Many girls fawned over him but I was the one who captured his interest. He used to meet me in the library almost every afternoon and we would discuss various subjects. On one such afternoon, when no one else was around, he suddenly took my hand and then bent his head and placed a kiss on my lips. It was a slow, short kiss, but it was sweet and entirely memorable."

"Aww," Natalie stated smiling, "that's so cute. What happened to him?"

Hermione shrugged, "we dated for a little while but, he was older than me and so he moved on with his life and I began to develop feelings for Ron."

They were quiet for several moments before the doorbell suddenly rang and Sara jumped up from the couch in excitement. "That's the Chinese!"

Natalie clapped her hands, "Yay! I'm starved."

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully and as the sky began to darken, Hermione rose and stated that she was going to head home.

"Thank you for coming over, it was fun!" Sara stated as Hermione walked out the door.

Hermione smiled and nodded, "yeah, I'll see you guys later."

Natalie waved as Hermione turned and disappeared around a corner.

Hermione had not thought of Billy McAvins for several years and she found that the memory had triggered a strange realization.

He had been the embodiment of cruelty, but the experience had matured her in ways that she was eternally grateful for. She was actually indebted to him in a way.

Along with this understanding came another insight.

Draco Malfoy entered her mind, and her first thought was over how apparently similar he and Billy were.

However, unlike Billy, Malfoy too possessed the maturity that the majority of Hogwarts students had.

Draco had insulted her but he had never humiliated her. In his eyes, even as a child, one could see that he had experienced things that Billy would never have dreamed.

There was depth to him, Hermione realized and, as she again recalled their conversation in the park, she felt that strange feeling return to her being.

Draco held no personal inhibitions against her, merely a false and warped sense of superiority. His actual battle was with Harry, who, for some reason, had invoked a deep grudge within the Malfoy boy.

For the greater part of their years at Hogwarts, Malfoy hardly ever spoke to her.

They had pursued their own paths, hardly taking any notice of one another.

She had never before pondered over this thought but, upon doing so, she came to the conclusion that Billy and Draco were as different as two people could possibly be.

Where Billy and his friends had gone out of their way to hurt her, Draco had never done so. He insulted her but she almost always initiated their spats.

Draco was still a spiteful, infuriating little bastard, but he also had a more striking depth of person.

Billy may have matured over the years, but comparing the two, at the time when she had first laid eyes on Draco, was like comparing night and day.

Billy was an ignorant, spoiled little brat, who enjoyed hurting others. He had tricked and lured her into a false sense of euphoria.

Draco was a pompous yet educated child who had already begun his path within the shadow of a menacing evil. He did not delight in hurting people, simply reveled in being seen as a superior being. He retaliated when scorned and, though he was also spoiled, he had a determination that mirrored her own. He did not falsely present himself, but was entirely blatant and truthful in everything he said and did; Even if his truth was warped.

The main difference was the level of complexity between the two. Draco was an enigma. Almost everything he did surprised her of late.

The stars had already begun to shine through the veil of darkness and, spotting Draco's constellation she marveled at its wonder.

She tried to make sense of all the thoughts bouncing around in her mind but she found all of her efforts proved useless.

Mostly she was trying to figure out why Draco was being so civil towards her.

'_No'_, she thought, that wasn't even it. What she was actually trying to discern was what to do with the civility he offered.

She could just go along with it, and try to form a delicate acquaintance with him. Still, the thought unnerved her a bit. It was foreign and unprecedented. However, what could be the harm in it? Unless the Malfoy's were planning a major deceit against the Muggles, which she was beginning to doubt, there was no reason why she shouldn't give Draco a chance to be decent.

Harry and Ron wouldn't much like the idea but, it wasn't like she was actually trying to build a friendship with him. She merely wanted to form an association.

After all, after the summer, everything would change. And she _had _made up her mind to try her hand at new experiences.

Walking into her bedroom, she flicked on the lamp and sat at her desk, staring down at an empty piece of parchment. She bit her lip as she debated whether or not to write Harry.

However, after a lengthy session of pondering, she decided against it and stood. There was no point in aggravating her friend considering that, after the summer, they would probably never see Malfoy again.

Hermione reached for Crookshanks and scooped him into her arms, smiling as the warmth from his body radiated through her.

Draco's constellation again caught her eye through the window and Hermione stood gazing at it for countless moments, holding Crookshanks close and thinking over all that had transpired over the past week.

She couldn't suppress the image of Draco's broken face at the mention of Dumbledore's name. That alone was enough to redeem him in her mind. Despite all he had done over the years, the obvious guilt he portrayed was proof of the state of his heart. He was not evil, deceitful or even malicious.

His faults were a result of his rich, callous, and prejudiced upbringing. However, those traits were not damnable.

Hermione bit her lip and looked to her nightstand where there stood a plaque embedded with the Gryffindor crest.

Why had she been placed in that house?

She thought over what Draco had said to her on the subject, and of how he admitted to admiring her for her ambition.

Hermione had never expected to hear such a revelation from him, but, once again, Draco proved his reputation of being always blatant with his thoughts.

It was something that actually felt refreshing. Amidst all the secrets and turmoil Harry held and all the confusion that was Ronald, Draco did not withhold anything.

Suddenly becoming angry with her turn of thoughts, Hermione turned from the window and sat on her bed. She shouldn't compare her two best friends to Draco. They meant more to her than life itself, and that was something that would never change.

"What do you think, Crookshanks?" she whispered to the feline in her lap. "Do you think he's worth an affiliation?"

Crookshanks simply purred and cuddled closer to her, brining a smile to Hermione's face.

She sighed and shook her head, "We'll just see what happens."


	8. What to do about Draco

**Chapter 8**

What to Do About Draco

_July 18__th_

Hermione woke and felt as if a freight train had slammed into her. Her head was pounding and her entire body was aching. For an instant she panicked until she recalled that she was not scheduled to work.

Relieved, Hermione lay back down and closed her eyes, feeling shivers beginning to creep over her skin.

After half an hour or so she heard a faint knock against her door and, lifting her head slightly she mumbled a weak "come in."

Walking into the room with a worried expression, Jean Granger sat on the edge of the bed and touched Hermione's arm gently.

"Are you alright, dearest?"

Hermione nodded, "I just don't feel well."

Jean nodded, "yeah, your father's not feeling so great either. You two must have caught the same thing."

Shaking her head, Hermione allowed her eyes to drift closed once more.

"Would you like anything? Some tea perhaps?"

After a brief moment, Hermione nodded and Jean smiled. "I'll be right back."

As she heard her mother's footsteps recede into the hall and down the stairs, Hermione glanced over at her nightstand and, seeing _Desiree _sitting patiently amidst nine other volumes, decided that, since she wasn't going to be doing much of anything all day, that it would be a perfect opportunity to catch up on some reading.

Opening the book to the indicated spot, Hermione felt herself become instantly enraptured within the life of the French heroine.

Hundreds of words passed through her eyes and into the endless span of her thoughts, where she analyzed, connected and empathized with the characters and their feelings.

She enjoyed several moments of uninterrupted bliss before her mother came back in with her tea and gently set it on the nightstand.

Hermione muttered a thank you and smiled at the minty aroma that the brew emitted in thick strokes of visible heat.

After carefully sipping the welcome beverage, Hermione wholly invited the warmth to spread throughout her body, relaxing, easing and soothing her aching joints.

Wearing a pleased countenance, Hermione set it down before once again indulging herself within the novel awaiting her.

She did not particularly enjoy being ill but it always tended to be a cleansing, refreshing experience. All the toxins in her body were purified, and her body and mind were forced to rest.

She suspected the illness was induced by her recent stress and anxiety, the past few weeks had wrought more unease than was average for her ever-concerned mind.

After some hours, her eyes began to grow sore in their current state and she reluctantly set the novel down, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Glancing up at the midday sun glaring through her curtains, she felt a rare desire to bask within its warm glow.

Hermione typically preferred cloudy days, with a nice breeze and merely the slightest hint of sun. However, there were some days when the giant orb of light seemed to beckon to her, taunting her with its rays and luminous properties.

Tapping her fingers together, Hermione debated whether or not to venture outside. She knew that the wiser choice would be to try and sleep the day away, though her budding restlessness was nearly unbearable.

Biting her lip, she pondered for countless moments, weighing the possible outcomes and determining the best possible solution.

Deciding to at least test how she felt on her feet, Hermione pushed away the covers and instantly cringed at the chill of the room against her fevered skin. As she stood, she felt a brief wave of dizziness before her mind slowly settled and allowed for her to deduce that all seemed well.

She really only wanted to enjoy the sunshine for at least a little while. There was no harm in that right?

Grabbing a sweater from her closet she pulled it on and crossed her arms over chest to assist the spread of warmth.

As she stepped out into the hall, she heard her father's deep breathing from the next room and briefly envied his ability to simply sleep without the urges she couldn't seem to dispel.

Walking slowly down the stairs, she saw Crookshanks run across the hall in front of her and smiled to herself. Unlike most cats, Crooksie was not nocturnal. His lively time was in the middle of day. There were many ways in which her beloved pet deviated from the norm, which only served to increase her affection toward him.

The back door stuck on her first attempt at opening it but after several years Hermione had become accustomed to its stubbornness.

The fresh, outside air greeted her like the arms of heaven and, as she closed her eyes and smiled as the breeze and warmth of sunlight filled her, tranquility settled over her mind.

It was a delightful reprieve and, as her smile widened, Hermione knew that she had made the right choice. Sleep could not replace the therapy nature inherently offered.

Sitting on the porch swing, Hermione brought her legs to her chest and rested her chin atop her knees. The chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves added to the alleviating, serene effect.

Sighing, Hermione decided to lay down on the swing and, as she did so, the feeling of contentment, resembling that which she had felt at the park with Draco, began to waft over her.

Her eyes slipped close and her mouth parted slightly into a soft, delicate smile. The air rocked the swing gently, and the cool wind combined with the warmth of sunshine provided the perfect, comfortable atmosphere.

Within minutes, sleep overtook her and the worries of tomorrow awaited her return to the conscious world...

_Hermione saw herself walking through a massive field, beneath an ultraviolet, starry sky._

_All around her were strange creatures, dancing in intricate patterns around her. She somehow felt as if she recognized them from someplace, though the mystery of where eluded her. _

_A figure was approaching from across the dark meadow and, as she awaited the revelation of the visitor a strange sensation overcame her. She felt altogether afraid, warm, anxious, excited and above all delighted. _

_A wide grin spread across her face as she began to hasten her stride towards the individual and, as she approached, she realized that the features were covered in shadow, though she construed that he was a man._

_The man offered his hand and she took it, feeling his fingers interlocking with her own._

"_Who are you?" she heard herself ask._

_The man seemed to become amused by her response and then whispered as softly and as indistinguishably as the wind, "I'm whoever you want me to be." _

Hermione woke with a start, and, as she did so, released a low moan. Her headache had grown worse and the aches in her body had intensified. She found that the air had grown colder over the hours and that the beginnings of evening were becoming visible.

Shivering violently, Hermione rose from the swing and slowly walked inside. Glancing up at the clock she saw that her mother was not due back for another hour and so she decided to return to her room.

Biting her lip, Hermione walked into her lavatory and eyed a bottle of ibuprofen on the counter. Though the idea of relieving her symptoms was tempting, she generally preferred to allow her body to go about its work unaided.

However, she normally came out of a day's illness quickly with only faint symptoms. This time, though, she had become worse throughout the day and since she had a shift scheduled for tomorrow, it was vital that she rid herself of the sickness by then.

Reluctantly, she poured two capsules into her hand and swallowed them. Squeezing her eyes closed as she felt the uncomfortable slide of the pills down her throat.

Ever since she was a child she hated swallowing pills; it always brought on an irrational choking sensation, which would send her heart into a momentary panic. If she were to choose a worst possible death scenario, it would definitely involve being strangled.

Sighing, Hermione felt another wave of shivers, and a fresh flourish of pain in her head. She gripped the counter tighter and shook her head at her pale reflection in the mirror.

It would be a good hour or so until the ibuprofen started to work and, thinking quickly, Hermione decided that the best way to wait out the symptoms would be to take a hot bath.

Nothing was more soothing nor as therapeutic as a bath and, as the idea formulated within her mind, her aching muscles seemed to jump in anticipation of finding relief.

Walking to the tub, Hermione reached down and switched on the faucet, smiling at the welcome sound of the rushing water. She allowed it to fill as she set her clothes neatly on the counter. After adding a bit of jasmine oil to scent the water, Hermione sank into the beckoning warmth and closed her eyes in satisfaction.

She felt her joints loosen almost immediately and the chills subside rapidly. The aroma of her favorite floral scent invigorated her senses, putting her mind to ease.

As she basked within the ultimate form of relaxation, the dream she had envisioned began to return to her mind. Confused, Hermione primarily contemplated on what the man had said at the end, about being whomever she wanted.

Hermione believed that dreams were always relevant in one form or another and so, this one had to be in some way as well. The creatures that had been dancing around her she could now, in her conscious mind identify. They were the same creatures that had served the beast in the Broadway production of Beauty and the Beast. This meant, in some way, that she was tied to the character of Beauty, as the creatures had danced around her in much the same way.

Who was the man though? His touch was foreign and his voice was too soft to distinguish. The feelings she had felt upon seeing him were the most vivid aspect of the dream, but she had no idea to whom those feelings were directed. She'd never even felt anything like them before.

Placing her palm over her heart, she felt it slightly hasten at the memory, though the reaction was completely involuntary.

Furrowing her brows, Hermione decided to turn her thoughts toward something else.

Like what to do about Draco.

She had made up her mind to just see what would enfold and go from there, though the prospect was a tad too feeble for her comfort.

She figured that there would be no harm in at least forming an acquaintance with the Slytherin, especially since their paths would soon be veering off in completely different directions.

She bit her lip and again thought of the guilty expression she had seen on his face. It was a side she had never seen of him and, upon being confronted by it, she was slightly unaware as how to receive it.

She almost preferred that he had treated her as he always had, with indifference and prejudice. It was simpler, something she understood. This new face of Draco Malfoy was altogether disconcerting.

Closing her eyes, she cleared her mind of everything and simply allowed the soothing properties of her bath to revitalize her.

The hour slowly progressed and, as all light beyond her window was obliterated by the night, Hermione finally began to ease her body out of the tub.

She felt loads better, though she wasn't sure whether she owed it to the bath or to the ibuprofen. Perhaps it was both.

Wrapping a towel about her torso, Hermione grabbed her pajamas and then stepped into her room. The contrast between the warm bath and the air in her room was momentarily distressing, but her body gradually adjusted to the change.

She smoothed her favorite lotion over her skin before dressing and then running a comb through her hair.

Her outlook had brightened considerably and, as she switched off the light and descended the stairs, she wore a fixated smile.

"Feeling better?" Jean asked as she spotted her daughter.

Hermione nodded, "way better. How's dad?"

Jean sighed, "He's alright but he'll have a more difficult time coming around than you."

Sitting at the table Hermione watched as he mother prepared dinner and briefly envisioned herself doing the same. She imagined her own daughter eying her with the same speculating eyes and then marveled upon the essence of time and heritage. How strange it was to think that at one point her mother had been in her spot, wondering the same things and guessing at the future. Hermione shook her head, someday her own child, in turn, would be pondering all these things as well.

It was an endless cycle.

Life was a curious concept and Hermione knew, if she allowed her mind to do so, that she could spend weeks thinking solely on that thesis.

"I'm going to go sit outside for a bit," Hermione informed her mother as she pushed herself up from the table and towards the door.

"Alright dearest, dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes."

Nodding, Hermione stepped out into the night and breathed in the summer air. Recently, she couldn't seem to get enough of being out and about in nature. She was feeling somewhat claustrophobic in her house.

Sitting on the front steps she again found herself contemplating the image of herself cooking dinner for her family.

She had never imagined herself to fall within the domestic mom prototype but cooking was something she had always enjoyed. It was like brewing a potion.

Coming up with make-believe faces for her children was easy but she never knew what face to give the man who was to be her husband.

"_I'm whoever you want me to be."_

The words from her dream echoed through her mind and Hermione instantly pushed all accompanying thoughts away. It would drive her crazy to contemplate on it any further.

The sound of footsteps approaching from across the street caused her to sweep her eyes over the surrounding area.

At first she didn't see anyone but, gradually, like a mirage forming within a desert, she caught the familiar sight of a platinum head of hair.

He walked as if the entire world had slowed its pace to accommodate his leisurely stroll, and his face was relaxed, unworried and bright.

Hermione rolled her eyes before standing and walking towards him, meeting him halfway in the street.

"What are you doing out here?" she inquired.

Draco shrugged, "nothin' really. What are you up to?"

Hermione brought a hand to her forehead, where she felt her headache returning. "Draco, I really don't feel like talking with you right now, I'm not feeling very well."

Draco smirked before plastering the most convincing look of concern he could muster across his features. "Oh, sorry. Are you alright?"

Hermione could hear the underlying derision within his seemingly appropriate response.

"Don't act like you're concerned for me."

He grinned, "Alright then, I won't."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "you're so uncouth."

"Uncouth eh?" he asked with a raised brow.

Nodding, Hermione just tilted her head and allowed an innocent smile to spread across her features, "Seems the most accurate word to describe you."

Draco shook his head, "I disagree."

"Oh?"

"As a matter of fact," he defended, "I am always courteous."

Hermione snickered, "really? Please enlighten me."

"Well, for one, I escorted you home the other night and, secondly, I _always _make sure to conduct myself in a gentlemanly manner."

Hermione shook her head, "whatever you say, Draco."

They were silent for several moments before a light breeze swept past Hermione and surrounded Draco. He inhaled before catching her eye and smiling slightly.

"Are you wearing jasmine?"

Hermione blinked and felt at once uncomfortable by his comment. "Oh, uhm, yeah, it's one of my favorites."

He nodded, "ah, well you actually smell nice."

Hermione shook her head at his choice of words. "What? Did you expect me to smell bad?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. I never really wondered."

She bit her lip before looking away and down the street.

"I thought you didn't feel like talking to me?" he suddenly asked.

Looking back to him she nodded, "I don't."

"Yet here you are."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed before abruptly turning and walking away from him.

Draco laughed before following her onto her porch, where she sat.

"You're trespassing you know." She informed him.

Shrugging, Draco leaned against the railing, "So?"

Hermione just waved it off before resuming her pointed stare down the street. "So what is it you really want?"

He seemed to carefully contemplate her question before muttering a response. "I came to ask what your comment in the café was about."

"Oh Merlin! Draco!" Hermione's eyes widened as she turned her gaze to see a wide grin across his face. "You're such a persistent little prat."

"You'll tell me one day," he replied confidently.

"Don't count on it."

"I count on everything."

Hermione pondered his statement before furrowing her brows. "What does that mean?"

Draco shrugged, "don't know. I just wanted to say it."

"Uhuh," Hermione replied before shaking her head.

After a few moments she again rested her forehead within her palm.

Several minutes of silence passed between them before Draco finally made up his mind to offer her an honest explanation as to his presence on her street.

"I'm just really bored is all."

Hermione looked up as he continued.

"You're the only one around to talk to."

An immediate feeling of empathy swept through her as she observed him, and she had to admit she felt rather bad for her rude comment about not wanting to speak with him.

She smiled softly and he offered a small smirk in response.

"Okay, Draco," she replied, "we can talk."


	9. Confession

**A/N:** My apologies for the lengthy update. I encountered an error and could not add any chapters to my story :( however, found a way to bypass this and am now able to continue posting! :D

**Chapter 9**

Confession

_July 18__th_

Draco pushed himself away from the railing and came to sit on the step beside Hermione, while she moved away a few inches to put more space between them.

"So…you're not feeling well eh?"

Hermione nodded and closed her eyes as she began to feel the effects of the ibuprofen wane.

"Well," Draco continued, "try not to breathe on me or anything."

Hermione immediately spun her head around and raised a brow, "how rude are _you_?"

"Huh?"

Hermione shook her head, "It's not like I invited you over here or anything, or asked you to sit next to me. You did that on your own so, don't be ordering me about."

Draco blinked, "I don't want to get sick."

Hermione laughed, "Well, then maybe you should leave."

Draco scoffed, "are you always so irritable when you're sick?"

Offering no reply, Hermione merely leaned towards him and released a long exhale in front of his face.

Draco immediately stood and walked away from her, "okay, you know what, I'm just going to stand over here."

Smiling to herself, Hermione merely allotted herself more room on the step, shifting her body into a more comfortable position.

"I think you're ruder than me, Granger."

Hermione shrugged, "perhaps."

A passing car swept it's headlights over the pair as it rounded a corner and, within the brief lighting, Hermione watched Draco's face. It was full of curiosity and ease, which was something she faintly envied. Why couldn't she feel as tranquil?

Catching her eye, Draco merely shrugged, "what?"

Hermione bit her lip and looked away as she was once again struck with the thought of what was coming within the next few months.

Harry and Ron's faces flooded into her mind, and she felt a pang in her chest as she recognized how badly she missed them. They had become a part of her, a very intimate and irreplaceable part of her.

Would she lose one of them within the tribulations to pass? She couldn't bear the thought of it.

Closing her eyes she willed the horrific reverie away; it was much too painful to even contemplate.

She hadn't realized how tightly she was clutching her hands, nor how troubled her face had become until Draco suddenly came to stand in front of her.

"Granger?"

Hermione instantly opened her eyes and looked up at him. She tried to conceal the anxiety behind her gaze, but her emotions betrayed her and she quickly looked away.

Crouching in front of her, Draco gazed at her uneasily. "Are you feeling that bad?"

Hermione cleared her throat before slowly turning to face him, "Uhm, I guess my fever's starting to come back."

"Is that all? Is something bothering you?"

Hermione just looked away, "no, nothing's bothering me."

Draco was quiet for awhile, before surprising her with a confession.

He began in a low voice, barely audible yet almost haunting. "Last year, when th-the Dark Lord assigned me to my…task…I was eager at first and proudly carried the responsibility he had placed on my shoulders."

Returning her gaze to him, Hermione's eyes widened slightly at what he was revealing to her.

"However, after I had begun putting the plan into motion, I started to experience difficulties. Emotional difficulties. I finally started to realize the severity of what he had asked me to do and eventually, that realization became guilt."

Hermione watched him intently, his eyes downcast and his face twisted with regret.

"It tore me apart, Granger. I was tormented with the prospect of what I was about to do, yet terrified of the consequences if I didn't follow through. He-"

Draco suddenly stopped and let his head fall into his hand, his fingers clutching his pale strands.

Pity swelled within Hermione and, unthinkingly, she suddenly placed a hand over his.

Draco remained motionless, but tensed at her contact. As Hermione gazed at her hand upon his, she felt unsure on what to do next.

Slowly, after mere seconds, she withdrew it, and simply watched him. He seemed to relax slightly as she removed her hand.

"Go on," she ordered gently.

Draco was silent for another few moments, before removing his hand and letting it fall into his lap. He still refused to meet her gaze as he continued.

"He had threatened my mother, and I. My father was in Azkaban at the time but I know now that the only reason he involved me in this plot was to punish my father for his disloyalty."

"Disloyalty?"

Draco nodded, "my father hates the Dark Lord, absolutely hates him."

Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion, though put no voice to her puzzlement.

"The Dark Lord intended for me to die in my attempt to…fulfill my…task…however, he underestimated Dumbledore's…Dumbledore's…"

"…Mercy." Hermione finished for him, noticing that his eyes had begun to moisten at the mention of Dumbledore's name.

Draco nodded, his voice breaking slightly, "and so did I. I never knew how kind he truly was how, understanding. Even as he stood at the point of my wand, he tried to save me."

Hermione bit her lip as she suppressed her own tears, she missed their headmaster terribly.

"So," Draco continued, finally meeting her gaze. "When I ask if anything is bothering you, I know that something is. I recognize it now. I know the look of torment and anxiety. I see it in you."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "It's just the coming term, I don't know what to expect."

She decided to stick with half-truths. There was no way she could ever reveal she, Harry and Ron's plan to Draco.

"Is that all it is?"

Hermione nodded slowly.

Draco didn't seem convinced but stood all the same and resumed his perch against the porch railing.

Hermione watched him with a heavy heart. She had been wrong in her earlier assessment of his ease. Outwardly, he was calm and collected but, underneath all of that he still harbored guilt and abhorrence towards himself for what he had almost done.

"Draco," she called out as she stood and walked over to him.

He looked up, "yeah?"

"I really appreciate you telling me all of that."

He seemed uncomfortable but offered a faint nod.

Hermione almost felt as if she owed him something, a word of consolation at least.

"Draco, as I told you the other day, you made the right choice in the end. It doesn't matter what you _almost_ did. Our choices define us, not our mistakes. In fact, because it was so difficult for you, the fact that you still did the right thing means so much more."

Draco's lips parted as he looked at her.

"You acted very courageously, Draco. In fact, it may also surprise you to learn that I actually respect your for that trait. It's Gryffindor and if you weren't such an ambitious little snob I believe that you would've had a fair shot at being placed in our house."

Draco's face broke into a grin and he chuckled. "Now why does that sound so familiar?"

Hermione laughed, "No idea."

They continued to laugh for another few moments, as a gust of cold wind encircled them.

Hermione shivered and wrapped her arms around her torso.

"Do you have a fever or something?"

"Yeah, something like that," Hermione nodded.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?"

With another nod Hermione simply shrugged, "yep."

Draco let the matter rest and looked away as Hermione swept her mind over their previous conversation. She was once again struck by how blatantly honest Draco was about his feelings and torments. He was so open about them. It was a trait rarely found in anyone.

"Granger," he began smiling faintly down at her, "don't you dare tell anyone else what I said, especially your boyfriends."

Hermione grinned before slowly nodding, "I won't."

And she meant it. She knew well enough to secrete such a confession. A confession he had openly entrusted to her.

A sudden wave of light suddenly washed over the pair, momentarily blinding them as Hermione's mother opened the door.

"Hermione, dinner's re-"

Jean Granger's eyes fell over the boy standing next to Hermione and a mixture of surprise and confusion overtook her features.

Hermione stepped towards her mother before indicating Draco, "this is Draco Malfoy, a classmate from Hogwarts."

Draco appeared uncomfortable as he stepped into the flood of light.

"Draco," Jean stated with an outstretched hand, suppressing her startled emotions. "It's nice to meet you."

Draco weakly shook her hand, still unsure as to how he should handle the situation.

"Are you a good friend of Hermione's?"

Draco simply looked at Hermione, his mouth parting slightly, and his mind attempting to sort through his thoughts.

"He's an acquaintance of mine, "Hermione explained. "I ran into him the other day when I was walking home and I told him he could come by and visit me sometime."

"Ah," Jean smiled, "don't say much do you?"

Draco simply shrugged and returned the smile.

'_Oh he can talk alright,_' Hermione thought with a smirk.

"Are you hungry at all, Draco?" Jean continued, "You're more than welcome to stay for dinner."

Draco exchanged a look with Hermione before shaking his head, "no, I'm alright, thank you though. I just came by to say hello."

Jean waved off his refusal, "darling boy, I would be pleased to have you join us."

"No. Mom," Hermione started to say, "He-"

Jean, however, was already ushering him inside, patting him on the back and grinning widely.

Hermione's eyes had widened as she took in the scene before her and at the prospect of what was about to ensue. Draco Malfoy was in her house. Draco Malfoy was about to have dinner with her family.

'_Lord,'_ she thought as she felt her headache intensify. _'This is going to be interesting.'_

As they walked into the house and the aroma of the kitchen filled her senses, Hermione numbly sat in a chair next Draco, her mind reeling with all types of horrific scenarios.

Casting a glance at Draco she saw that he seemed every bit as uncomfortable as she was and this pleased her. At least he could suffer from this awkward event as well.

"Nathaniel," Jean greeted her husband as he entered the kitchen, "we have a guest joining us for supper tonight.'

Nathaniel's face lit up as he saw Draco. He loved company.

"Well, very nice to have you my boy." He leaned forward and shook Draco's hand. "You must be Ron."

Hermione's eyes widened and she gazed at her father in amazement.

"No!" she and Draco stated at the same time.

Nathaniel appeared confused, "oh. Well, sorry about that. I just assumed you were seeing as how Hermione fancies him and all."

"Dad," Hermione moaned, closing her eyes and resting her forehead in her palm.

Draco seemed highly amused as a grin spread across his face. "My name is Draco Malfoy, sir."

"Ah," Nathaniel nodded, "well, nice to meet you."

As Jean set plates in front of everyone she furrowed her brows as she seemed to ponder something. "The name Draco Malfoy sounds vaguely familiar. Have you mentioned him before Hermione?"

Hermione wanted to say no, but couldn't bring herself to lie to her parents so she reluctantly nodded, "I have. Maybe once or twice."

"Hmm," Nathaniel nodded and seemed to be thinking of when he had ever heard it. Hermione prayed he wouldn't remember.

Jean set out four glasses and filled them with a sparkling juice before placing a loaf of bread and some butter on the table as well as a fruit salad.

Hermione heard Draco's stomach rumble faintly as he eyed the main dish in Jean's hands; a pot roast with potatoes, carrots and mushrooms. Hermione herself had to admit it looked intensely appetizing.

"So are you a Muggle as well, Draco?" Jean asked as she sat down to eat.

Draco immediately shook his head, "no, I'm not."

Hermione wished she could just go deaf for a few moments, afraid of how the conversation was bound to turn out.

"Well," Nathaniel offered, "that's okay as long as you're not one of those self-righteous types Hermione has told us all about."

Hermione bit her lip and lowered her eyes. '_Shut up, dad. Please.'_

"You know what she said one time?" Nathaniel continued, leaning forward intensely, "that one little boy in her class actually made her cry. Apparently he called her some sort of foul name concerning her Muggle heritage. I don't recall the exact insult, but I felt sick hearing about it. My Hermione's a good girl and doesn't deserve to be talked to that way. I mean, I don't care who you are, you shouldn't go around treatin' other people like that."

Hermione felt her face turn a deep shade of crimson as she hid it in her hands. This was worse than she had anticipated. What would Draco say?

"Do you remember that boy's name, Hermione?"

Silence ensued, in which Hermione fought to control her breathing. "No, dad," she answered meekly. "I don't recall his name."

"Well," Nathaniel replied. "It's just as well. Feller doesn't deserve a name anyway."

Hermione shook her head and kept her eyes closed. '_Oh Merlin_,' she thought, '_why is this happening?'_

Draco remained silent, which left Hermione to try and discern his thoughts. So many different guesses swarmed through her mind. At the forefront, that he was angry and humiliated. A bad combination when it concerned Draco Malfoy.

"Can you believe that though?" Nathaniel asked Draco. "That there are actually people like that in the world?"

"Okay!" Hermione finally stated, opening her eyes, a look of sheer disbelief plastered on her features. "Dad, can we please stop talking about this? I don't appreciate you doing so in front of one of my classmates. It was a long time ago, I've moved on."

Nathaniel finally seemed to notice that he had embarrassed his daughter and instantly apologized, his face contorted with regret.

Jean rolled her eyes as she ate her roast, "pay no heed to them, Draco, they get themselves into these situations all the time."

Draco still remained silent as he moved his food about his plate, his appetite seemingly lost. Hermione couldn't bear to look at him, for fear of what she'd find written beneath the façade he displayed.

A few minutes passed in which Jean and Nathaniel conversed with one another. Hermione still bit her lip and refused to lift her gaze until Draco suddenly nudged her on the arm.

Slowly turning her head towards him she looked into his face and saw that he was staring down at his plate. Reluctantly, she let her eyes fall to his food and, upon seeing what was there, her mouth parted.

It seemed that he had not been moving his food around absently. Comprised of bits of carrot and potato, was the faint spelling of the word 'Sorry.'

Hermione allowed a soft chuckle to escape her as she looked up at him. He offered a small smile before destroying the evidence of his apology with a fork.

Acting quickly, Hermione spelled a reply of her own with pieces of apple and cantaloupe from the fruit salad.

She pointed towards it and Draco leaned over to see. 'Me too,' it read.

He smiled again and then seemed to visibly relax. Hermione felt loads better though she wondered if she would ever fully recover from the intensity of her embarrassment.

After dinner, and following the exchange of goodbyes, Hermione and Draco stepped out into the night. The moon was at its peak overhead and the chill in the air had increased.

"That was interesting, Granger. Thank you for having me."

Hermione shook her head, "whatever, you know it wasn't my idea."

Draco smirked, "well you didn't do anything to stop your mother so that in itself is something."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "goodnight, Draco."

Grinning, Draco nodded. "Night, Granger."

As he turned to walk away, Hermione tilted her head as she pondered what had transpired. She felt that she and Draco had crossed some sort of threshold. Nothing would be the same between them anymore.

She wouldn't dare go so far as to call him an actual "friend", but she knew there would now remain a level of respect and civility between them.

What would Harry and Ron say if they found out? They trusted her judgment right?

They absolutely abhorred Draco though, more than she ever did.

Biting her lip, Hermione walked inside. '_It doesn't matter anyway. After the summer I'll probably never see him again.' _

For the first time, this prospect actually saddened her a bit.

At the sight of her dad, she welcomed his hug as he once again apologized for embarrassing her.

"It's alright, dad." She replied.

He chuckled, "so who is Mr. Draco anyway?"

Hermione smiled, "just someone from school."

"Hmm," her father replied with a shrug, "you two seem to get along pretty well."

"So it would seem," Hermione walked into the living room and sat on the sofa.

Following her, Nathaniel leaned in the doorway. "Have you never been interested in this boy?"

Hermione couldn't help the horrified expression from taking over her face. "No way. Never."

"Huh," he replied. "I really liked him. Seems like a great fellow."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked away. "Alright dad, that's enough."

"I'm sorry," he replied taking a seat next to her. "You told me you were confused about Ron, so it may be that some part of you feels that you two would not be right for each other. The best friend aspect worked for me and your mother but it typically doesn't for everyone."

He patted her on the knee. "If I were you I'd observe my options and keep an open mind. You and Draco seem to get along wonderfully. Perhaps you should get to know him and see where it goes."

Hermione chuckled, "I've decided to get to know him but, trust me dad, it is not going to go there. It is NOT going to go _there_."


	10. Comfort Companion

**A/N:** Really sorry about the lengthy update, I've been so crazy busy. I fully intend to complete this fic however, so just try and bear with me please! Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed/added to favorites. You are all very much appreciated!

**Chapter 10**

Comfort Companion

_July 19__th_

_Dear Hermione,_

_I cannot describe how excited I feel at your promise to attend my birthday at the burrow. Your presence alone will make that day so much more special. I miss you terribly and long to hear your voice and embrace you warmly. _

_I will admit to my sadness at hearing of your distress. I told you before that you are free to stay behind. This is my responsibility, I know, and if anything were to happen to you I would never be able to forgive myself. If you would rather stay and protect your family, then I wholly understand. You have a good heart, Hermione. _

_I don't know if I can completely empathize with you on your newfound appreciation of the Muggle World, fascinating as it is. I do, however, envy your outlook. You see, for me, that place was filled with nothing but the sensation of loss and desperation. The discovery of the Wizarding World was a sort of miracle or "awakening." I would love to hear your elaboration. It is something foreign to me. You described it as "beautiful" and rich with history. I do fondly wish that my experience there had not been tainted with lies. _

_This news of the Malfoy's presence is somewhat alarming. It raises suspicions I've had concerning Voldemort's interest in your world. Be careful around them, Hermione. Please. They were never the sort that could be trusted. I know that Dumbledore's death was not by Draco's hand nor by his will, I saw him waver. However, his father is someone who is all comprising of every malicious intent. They have dangerous connections and I would hate for you to somehow get caught in whatever scheme may be lurking behind this. If there are any new developments concerning them, please let me know immediately. Even if they are" innocently" banished there, if what they told you is what they actually think to be true, Voldemort may still have an ulterior motive up his sleeve. Never overlook that, Hermione._

_I am currently at the burrow and every day it becomes harder to look upon Ginny and not pull her into my arms. I love her, Hermione. It breaks my heart to be apart from her because I know she loves me too. I want to keep her safe though and being with her would only endanger her further. My deepest hope is that, someday, I will return and we will be together again because, once that day comes, I will never again let her go. _

_Other than that, I have nothing further to share. No new developments concerning the Horcruxes. Ronald is the same as always, though he is constantly telling me how greatly he misses you, almost _to_ the point of annoyance. I understand where he's coming from though. We all long to see you here at the burrow! I told them you would be coming for my birthday and they were overcome with excitement, especially Ron, who has been talking about it every day since I revealed it to him. Silly Ron. Maybe I should have made it a surprise ;). _

_Take care and Be careful, dearest Hermione. _

_You friend for always, _

_Harry_

_P.S. If you are going to miss Crookshanks so much, maybe you could bring him along. Although I doubt he'll enjoy himself much looking for Horcruxes. Who knows though, maybe he'll prove useful! :)_

Hermione laughed as she set Harry's letter down. She admitted that she hoped it would be a note from Ron, however, she berated herself as she knew full well that Ron was not one for writing letters. Harry's letter had cheered her up considerably, however, and, as she pushed herself up from her desk, she decided she was going to go out and enjoy the day before writing a reply.

Donning a light jacket with a faded pair of jeans, Hermione walked out into the beautiful day and inhaled the many scents wafting about in the air. She tied her hair up as she walked, smiling as the weight was lifted off her neck; her hair had always been incredibly thick.

She almost skipped down the sidewalk as she hummed one of her favorite tunes. Harry's letter had brightened her mood considerably. She always loved hearing from her beloved friend. A slight ache shot through her as she began to realize how much she was actually missing both he and Ron.

She bit her lip and continued walking, not entirely sure where her feet were taking her. After only a few moments though, she caught sight of the park. It was still a few blocks away but, after a moment's pause, Hermione decided to head there. If her suspicions proved correct then she would find the silly Malfoy boy there.

As she neared, she shook her head with a grin. Sure enough, upon the swing, was a familiar blonde haired Slytherin.

As her feet began to walk upon the sand, Draco turned.

"I thought I might find you here," Hermione mused, coming to a stop in front of him.

Draco smirked and looked up at her, "looking for me, eh?"

Hermione shrugged and sat on the swing beside him. "No, not particularly. I was going for a morning stroll and made an impulsive decision to see if you were here."

Draco shook his head, "whatever, Granger."

They rocked in silence, each staring at the expanse of grass upon the hill in front of them.

Draco suddenly grinned, "Would you like to race me to that tree over there?" He pointed to the top of a small slope.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly, "You want me to race you?"

"Sure," Draco replied and, upon seeing the look on her face, smiled, "What's wrong, you scared?"

Hermione gave him an incredulous look, "No. I'm a Gryffindor remember? Why should I be scared of anything?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "so do you want to or not, Granger?"

Hermione bit her lip and pondered for a moment. She really didn't enjoy overexerting herself in such foolish activities as racing.

Draco raised a brow, and continued to stare at her through a set of expectant eyes.

Sighing, Hermione rolled her eyes before finally nodding, "Alright fine."

What could it hurt? Racing was something that just wasn't offered everyday and, perhaps it would be the last chance she got to experience the activity that so many others seemed to enjoy.

Draco held back his grin as he jumped up from the swing. He looked down at Hermione and tilted his head, "are you ready then?"

Hermione stood, significantly slower than he had, and just simply nodded. "Sure, I guess."

Draco stretched and made sure his shoes were tightly laced. Hermione looked to her own in dismay as she realized they were sandals. Oh well, she didn't care if he won. It was just a silly race after all.

Looking to her he smirked, "on three."

"Don't you dare cheat," Hermione ordered with a glare.

With a scoff, Draco ignored her command. "One."

Hermione turned her attention to the finish line, and decided to slip her shoes off after all.

"Two."

Narrowing her eyes in concentration, Hermione braced herself.

After sending a very brief glance in the girl's direction, Draco announced, "three," and took off immediately.

Hermione sped off just a fraction of a second later, her mind reeling with a sudden excitement. Her competitive nature suddenly kicked in and she pushed herself further. She looked to the boy who was a mere two steps ahead and bit her lip. He was pretty fast, she'd give him that much.

Draco looked back at Hermione and laughed, seeing her intense struggle to win. He returned his attention to their destination as it neared. It unnerved him that she was so close behind but, he could see her exhaustion beginning to form. He was used to running laps during Quidditch Practice, while Hermione had no routine exercise to speak of, as far as he knew.

Hermione began to feel a cramp building in her side and her breathing was becoming more difficult. _'Damn,'_ she thought as Draco gained ground.

As the tree approached, Draco grinned widely at the prospect of victory. Hermione glared as she foresaw her own inevitable loss.

In one last attempt to obtain the win, Hermione reached a hand out and grabbed his shirt. Draco looked back in surprise but quickly spun himself out of her grasp and reached the tree a second later.

Hermione stopped beside him, face flushed and breathing rapidly.

Draco shook his head at her, "and you told _me _not to cheat."

Hermione shrugged and replied breathlessly, "I was upset."

"Whatever, Granger," Draco replied, though a small smile formed. "That was your inner Slytherin ambition shining through."

Hermione rolled her eyes but grinned all the same. She then brought a hand to her chest in attempt to somehow slow her heart, which was still pounding wildly.

As his own body recovered, Draco looked to the afternoon sun, shrouded by grey clouds. "I think it's going to rain today."

Hermione looked to the sky and nodded, "yeah, it looks that way."

He sat upon the swaying grass as the wind picked up slightly. Looking up at Hermione, he patted the spot beside him.

Hermione bit her lip as she decided whether to obey the prompt. With a shrug, however, she plopped down beside him.

Running her bare feet through the cool grass, Hermione smiled before looking to Draco and seeing a confused expression on his face. "What?"

"Your toes are pink."

Hermione raised a brow before looking down and seeing her painted nails. She returned her gaze to his and nodded. "Yes, I painted them for the first time in years this morning."

Draco shook his head, "I've never seen anything like that before."

Hermione gave him an amused look, "what? Girls in your circle don't paint their nails?"

Draco shook his head again, "no, they don't."

"Huh," Hermione replied, "that's interesting."

Silence fell between the two as they simply reveled in the summer afternoon. Draco picked up a blade of grass and idly turned it about in his fingers, while Hermione contented herself with cloud gazing.

Time, she thought, was a strange concept. Life itself was also. Through the passage of years, Hermione had arrived at her current situation. A situation where she found herself sitting beside someone she had never gotten along with in a world he had always despised. Very bizarre indeed.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco suddenly broke the silence.

Hermione turned to him and shrugged, "just a random assortment of thoughts. Time, in particular."

"Time?"

"Yes," she replied, "time."

"Huh," was his response.

Another period of silence ensued, which went minutes undisturbed before a sudden beep sent Hermione reaching for her phone.

Draco again watched her use the strange device in slight fascination.

The text was from Sara and it was inviting her to attend a party the next evening. Hermione bit her lip as her fingers lingered over the keys. A party. She had never really been to one and, the idea was somewhat unsettling. She knew she'd enjoy herself but, she also felt as if she hadn't quite gotten to know Sara and her friends well enough to feel entirely comfortable.

"You look worried," Draco surmised, taking in her features, "something wrong?"

Hermione shook her head, "not at all. I just received a text from a friend is all."

"Text?" Draco asked, confused.

Hermione observed him for a moment before suddenly chuckling, "oh, right. You have no idea what that is."

Draco rolled his eyes, "thank you for putting it so delicately."

"You're welcome," Hermione replied before turning to her phone once more.

Sighing, Draco moved closer and peered over her shoulder, eager to see what this 'text' thing looked like. He read the words and looked to her, "you were invited to a party?"

Hermione spun around and pushed him back, "rule number one about texts. Don't read them unless invited to."

"Why?"

"Because it's rude," Hermione replied, shaking her head.

Draco waved her off and resumed his former position, "whatever you say, Granger."

Hermione sighed and put her phone away, opting to think on attending and make up her mind before responding.

Draco, upon seeing her put away the device, stood and stretched. "Well, I'm really thirsty now, you wanna go get something?"

Pondering briefly, Hermione decided that she was thirsty as well. "Sure, that sounds nice."

"Let's go then," Draco replied, turning to the street and motioning for her to stand.

"Wait a sec," Hermione responded, "I have to go get my shoes."

Draco sighed but nodded as Hermione took off towards the swings at a jogging pace. She cleaned the sand out of her sandals before slipping them on her feet and returning to her spot by the tree.

"Okay," she smiled.

Draco nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets as he began to walk. Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder and followed, looking about as they stepped onto the pavement. "Where do you want to go?"

Shrugging, Draco looked to her, "no idea. Know of anywhere good?"

Biting her lip, she pondered a moment, "uhm, There's an old fashioned soda shop not too far from here."

Nodding, Draco indicated for her to take the lead and Hermione willingly obliged.

They stopped at a crosswalk and awaited their signal as several vehicles passed.

"Granger," Draco stated as he pointed to a passing Mitsubishi, "if I was to ever buy a car here, that is what I would get. Looks so sleek."

Hermione chuckled, "so get one."

Shaking his head, Draco lowered his hand. "I wouldn't know how to drive it."

They were finally indicated to cross, and they quickened their pace as they walked over the street.

Reaching the other side, Hermione smiled encouragingly, "It's really easy. Maybe I can show you sometime."

Draco sighed, "perhaps."

They passed several interesting looking places, one of them being a cellular phone store, which Draco paused to observe. Hermione shook her head and continued, Draco begrudgingly following.

They arrived at the small little shop Hermione had mentioned and she grinned as she opened the door.

"It's been ages," she mused aloud, looking in excitement around her. "Dad and I used to make a point of coming here every Saturday. I looked forward to it every week."

Draco said nothing, simply walked about the antique-looking store in intense interest.

The floor and walls were solid wood, as well as the displays of century old candies and sweets.

Towards the front was a small soda bar, with a side room containing several round tables and chairs.

Hermione motioned to the counter, and Draco nodded as he followed her.

"Hello, how may I help you today?" The clerk asked, his eyes kind. He took in the pair before recognition registered in his gaze. "Little, Mione right?"

Hermione laughed, "oh you remember me?" She observed the man before shaking her head, "Sorry, but I think I may have been too young to recall your name."

"It's George Benson," he replied offering a hand.

Hermione shook it, grinning widely. "Right, it does sound vaguely familiar."

"My goodness you've grown so much," He continued, shaking his head, "you've become a very lovely young lady indeed."

Hermione blushed slightly, "thank you, sir."

The man nodded before looking to Draco, who had simply been observing the exchange with amusement.

"Who's this with you then?"

Hermione's mouth parted slightly, "oh, sorry, how rude of me. This is Draco, an acquaintance from school."

"Pleasure to meet you," George said to Draco, offering a hand to him as well.

Draco took it with severely less enthusiasm than Hermione had.

"Right well, what would you two like?"

Hermione bit her lip as her eyes scanned the beverage list above. "I think I'll have the raspberry mocha cola."

"Ah, an all time favorite," George replied before looking to Draco, "and for you sir?"

Draco's brows furrowed as he read the menu, having no idea what any of it was. Hermione noticed his dilemma and smiled, "the spiced crème soda is terrific. You like spiced things, correct?"

Draco nodded, though he was somewhat confused as to why she knew that about him. He looked to the clerk and nodded, "I'll go ahead and try that."

George grinned and then halted Hermione as she began to take some money out, "no, miss, these'll be on the house today."

Hermione shook her at him but smiled all the same, "alright then, thank you, Mr. Benson."

"It's my pleasure," he replied turning to prepare the drinks, "just say hello to that father of yours in exchange, okay?"

Hermione nodded, "will do."

They watched as George mixed their beverages, expertly measuring out the desired ingredients. It took him all of five minutes, with the finishing touch being a bit of ice in each. He handed them their glasses and then motioned to the room behind him, "enjoy. Good to see you again, Mione."

Hermione smiled, "you too, and thanks again."

He simply nodded and then she and Draco entered the sitting room, choosing a table near the window.

Taking a long, slow sip, Hermione closed her eyes, "delicious, don't know why I don't come here more often."

Draco looked to his own drink and took a sip, before his eyes widened very slightly, prompting him to take another.

"Good?"

He nodded, "it's great." Setting it aside, however, he crossed his arms on the table and looked to her, "how did you know I like spiced stuff?"

Hermione shrugged, "I'm a very observant person. I notice small, seemingly meaningless details."

"Huh," Draco responded, "that's interesting."

Hermione nodded and then looked out the window as she sipped at her drink. The cars passed in a steady hum as thin crowds of people crossed over at several minute intervals. The traffic lights steadily shifted and the constant motion of pausing then proceeding followed. She marveled at it all. The scene was almost like music. Silent, but enthralling all the same.

"So…are you gonna go?"

Hermione turned to Draco and tilted her head, "huh? Go where?"

He was dabbing his straw in his glass as he looked up at her, "to that party."

"Oh, I don't know," she replied, taking another sip.

His gaze turned somewhat curious, "why is that?"

Setting her beverage down Hermione traced her finger along the patterns of the table, "I just don't know if I'll have a good time or not."

Draco felt faintly exasperated as she continued to only offer vague responses. He motioned his hand for her to continue, "…and, how come?"

Hermione observed him with an appraising gaze, wondering if she should really confide in him. It wasn't any of his business and yet, what would it hurt? It wasn't a huge deal, she supposed.

"Well, uhm, there are probably going to be a lot of people there and, though that doesn't generally bother me, I still would feel more comfortable if there were at least one or two people I actually felt reasonably familiar with."

"Ah," Draco replied, "and were you not invited by someone you're familiar with?"

"Not reasonably. Not yet," Hermione replied, "I'm still getting to know them, which is easier in a smaller setting."

"Hmm," Draco stated, sipping at his drink, "well, I still think you should go. These types of things have a way of surprising one."

"Maybe…" Hermione replied, considering. She looked up as Draco set his drink down and looked about the room at all the memorabilia and artwork.

An idea began to formulate within her mind, though it was entirely crazy and unprecedented. She really wanted to go, simply because it was yet another thing she wanted to experience. However, she couldn't get past the feeling of hesitation that sprang from the thought of going alone and facing a room full of individuals she hardly knew. The thing that primarily tended to happen, with the exception of a few rare cases, was that even if the person inviting you was someone who knew you, they would most likely simply say hello, invite you in, maybe introduce you to a few people, and then wander off and leave you to socialize with people they were far closer too.

Hermione shuddered at this scenario. She bit her lip then and mulled over her new plan. Though, it was strange and so very ridiculous. She shied away from it, yet at the same time welcomed it as the only available option.

"Say, uhm, Draco?" She couldn't believe what she was about to ask. Time again, she speculated, was a very funny thing.

"Huh?"

Hermione sighed, "feel free to say no, there isn't any pressure, but, I was wondering if perhaps you would like to accompany me to this party."

Surprise registered on his face before he replaced it with speculation, "Well, I can honestly say I didn't see this coming. Am I correct in interpreting your question as being a request for use of a comfort companion?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "no, it's not that at all. I think I would like you to come with me."

"Not just for your own personal support?"

"No. yeah, well, partly, but mostly because I think I'd enjoy it if you came."

Draco chuckled, "don't mince words with me, Granger. You want me to come along so that you don't feel so awkward."

"Fine, yes! Will you?"

Draco considered a moment before nodding, "sure, but you owe me one."

"Whatever," Hermione replied, "you seem like you'd enjoy yourself."

Draco shrugged, "that's irrelevant, I'm still doing you a favor."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione nodded, "alright, sure. I'll owe you one but, it has to be equivalent to the one I am asking of you."

"Agreed," Draco replied, taking a sip of his soda.

A pause ensued before Draco simply smiled, "and by the way, I'm touched that you consider me to be a person you feel 'reasonably familiar' with."

"Whatever, Draco," Hermione replied, "just don't make me regret this."

"Oh, don't worry," he responded with a smirk, "I wouldn't dream of it."

The clouds then released their promised rain, and Draco and Hermione spent a large portion of the afternoon simply watching the storm and drinking their beverages, both feeling entirely content.


End file.
